Road to Redemption
by K2loftysc
Summary: Peter Pettigrew thought death was a reprieve. Except now he's in an alternate reality with family he thought he would never have, and friends he knew better than they did themselves. With a war on the horizon and Voldemort lurking in the shadows, can he get it right the second time? And more importantly, what are Horcruxes? (Rated T for minor swearing) NOT SLASH, WIP.
1. Chapter 1: A New Path

Peter had never felt happiness.

Come to think of it, he'd never felt at peace either. It seemed his hand choking his own throat was the way he'd go out. He felt a small twinge of regret inside him, looking at Harry, Harry with his mother's eyes and his father's kindness, a family he had betrayed without a second thought. Maybe it was payment. For all the things he had done, or be forced into doing by Voldemort. The word felt strangely malevolent in his thoughts.

Ron Weasley looked shocked as he tried to prise the silver hand. Peter choked some more trying to tell him it was no use. He was going down, down to sleep he had never thought he would have. It seemed welcoming. He closed his eyes.

He opened them. He felt exposed, vulnerable and barren. The ground around him was white. He looked down and wished he hadn't. He was naked, and he desperately wanted to be clothed. Barely had he thought so when a fresh set of robes popped out of nowhere. He gaped at it before eagerly putting them on. Then a voice spoke.

'Peter?'

His first instinct was to hide, to scurry. But he quelled it. Albus Dumbledore was striding towards him, looking as if he was years younger. 'Shall we walk then?' Peter mutely nodded, and he walked besides the old wizard.

'I'm sorry.' He said, not looking at Dumbledore. The wizard looked curiously at Peter before replying.

'But whatever for?'

Peter gaped at him. 'I sold out James to V-Vo-Voldemort!' Dumbledore smiled. 'I sent Sirius to Azkaban when I wanted to escape the Death Eaters! How am I not a-' He stopped, as if unsure to swear in front of his old headmaster. Dumbledore inclined his head.

'Yes, you have. But tell me Peter—were you really willing to let Voldemort kill the Potters? Or for that matter, kill Harry?'

'It-it was an impulse. The hand—it was the Dark Lord's doing!' Peter said, still hating himself. 'I hid for 12 years, afraid to face my friends, professor. I was forced into betraying them.' He looked down at his hands. 'And the worst part is—I'm not sure if I was with it or against it.'

'War changes men.' Dumbledore remarked. 'It can make the bravest of lions cravens, and the strongest of men the weakest.' Peter turned to look at the wizard. 'Your actions, however inexcusable to some, however despicable to others, were not what you meant. There was a reason why the Hat put you in Gryffindor.'

It suddenly dawned on Peter. 'But you're dead.' He said while wincing. That was really blunt. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to gleam.

'Yes, I am.'

'But that must mean,' He looked round the white surroundings, 'I'm dead too?'

'Not quite, Peter.' Dumbledore explained. 'The brief moment of regret you felt, has found you in quite an unusual circumstance. The higher powers have meant to give you a task.'

'Me? But how? Why?' Peter blabbered. Dumbledore held a hand up, and Peter was silenced.

'Why is beyond my understanding. But one thing is clear, though I suspect you might find this difficult, Peter. You are needed to travel to a different world, one with similarities and differences alike. There is no Peter Pettigrew here, but there is someone else who you will be.'

'Other worlds?' Peter repeated. Was he really the one for this task? Couldn't whoever calling the shots just find someone else? 'I'm not sure if I'm good enough for this, sir.' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled.

'There is another choice however. Should you not wish to do this task, you could always move on.'

'On?'

'Yes. Let's say you could board a train here, and go on. Do you wish to, then?' Peter thought of James, Sirius, Remus and all the others who were dead. Could he even think of resting without seeing their faces, broken and mad?

'No. I'll go to this place, wherever it is.' _And hopefully not do anything dumb before I kill myself._ Dumbledore looked sadly at him.

'Then our business here is done. Remember Peter, that there is always a chance between what is right and what is easy. And also, find the horcruxes.'

'Wait, what?' Wind seemed to blow into his face. 'Professor!' The white seemed to increase until he could no longer see.

'Pete?'

The voice opened his eyes. It was a woman, with bright blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked anxiously at him. 'Are you alright?' She looked bursting to cry, so Peter nodded. She threw herself at him.

'Oh thank goodness!' She said, half sobbing into his shoulders. 'I was _so_ worried about you, you know?' Peter liked this woman's embrace—it felt warm on his body. Then he realized who she was supposed to be and tried to control her tears.

'It's okay, mum.' He said, amazed at how young his voice sounded. 'I'm fine, really. See, no broken bones!' She chuckled softly into his shirt.

'Don't ever scare me like that.' She said, drawing herself straighter. Peter could really notice the difference in height between him and his mother. He must be a child now. 'Now come on, the Healer's told me you're good to go.'

Peter marvelled at how St. Mungo's had never changed at all. The witches and wizards with ailments were not different than they were in the 1990s. He followed his mother, Catherine (he had learned the name when the nurses had called her so) as she went out of Dowse and Purge's and grabbed her hand. He felt a twisting sensation in his gut as his mum apparated.

He landed on soft grass. His mother brushed his robes and smiled at him. 'Just a walk now, Peter.' She said, and Peter hurriedly followed. His original mother had never been as kind as this lady. They reached an iron gate and Peter rushed forward, only to have his jaws drop.

Their house was an old mansion, stately and ancient. Only the Malfoy Manor had looked this regal. The rest of his walk was watching every single detail in the house that was to be his life.

Catherine had sent him to his room, which was also no less shabby. His bedroom alone had the banner of the Montrose Magpies and his window overlooked the estate. In other words, he was very well to do. His mind returned to what Dumbledore had told him.

What in the name of Merlin were _Horcruxes_?

At around 2 in the afternoon, Peter had the shock of his life. He had just been looking at his dresses when he chanced a look at the mirror.

His hair was no longer blonde. Instead, they were the lightest shade of brown and his eyes like his mother's blue orbs. He still looked pudgy, but that could have been due to his childhood. Not any sooner, he was called down to lunch by a house elf who he almost punched out of fright. The dinner table was full of plates laden with food, but that wasn't the only thing Peter saw. A man with his brown hair sat next to Catherine. He grinned at Peter as he sat beside him.

'Afternoon, son!' He said. 'Had a little fun with the brooms today?'

'Er-' Peter started, not really knowing what to say.

'Not to worry, Pete.' His father said, then leaned across conspiratorially. 'How about another round?' Mum was not amused at this.

'Richard, he could have been seriously injured!' She almost shouted. Dad dropped the topic, but he ruffled Peter's hair.

'Ready for Hogwarts then?' He asked. Peter looked at him surprised. 'Oh, don't act like that. You're the one who wanted to go to Ollivander's.' Mum blew out a deep breath.

'Richard Parker, don't encourage him now.'

'Sorry, Cat.' He said, not looking remotely abashed. 'Shouldn't you be getting the letter now?'

Something thumped against the glass of the windows. A tiny owl beat its wings furiously outside. Dad opened the windows and the owl landed into the pudding. Mum muttered, 'Really!' but cleared up the mess and plucked the letter from its claws. She gave it a once over and said, 'That's the one all right.' Peter leant to see it, as his dad dropped some Knuts into the owl's talons.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Parker,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Peter's stomach erupted into nervousness. He was going to Hogwarts, and while the place did bring back memories, he hoped that this time they would be better. Another thing that he wasn't sure was ironic was his name. Peter Parker. By Circe, the higher powers did like their jokes.

The rest of the day he spent inside. He pored over the books his parents had, and went back and forth but still couldn't find anything about horcruxes. It was as if they didn't exist at all. And then there were the matter of his friends, or the ones about to be his friends.

Could he even have normal conversation with them? Sure they weren't the ones he knew, but his conscience, pitiful that it was hoped that they would not become close with him. He aimed to make their lives better, and one glance at his abysmal record is enough to steer away from them.

Days went by and nights drew close. In the earliest weeks of August, his dad took a day off to spend time with him, and shop for school supplies. It made him feel extremely awkward, that this man who he barely knew would do so much for him. 'It's not as if DMLE is going after my neck.' His father retorted, and Peter dropped the matter.

Diagon Alley was still as breathtaking. In fact, if it wasn't for the sight of his parents accompanying him, Peter felt like he did before this world, in another time. His mum dragged him to Flourish and Blotts. 'You need so many books.' She reasoned, and his dad and he watched her bemused.

'Are you really going to study all that?' His dad asked, when mum lugged the case of books. He shrugged.

'I don't think there's anything else to do, is there? Besides, it'd make her happy.'

'That it would.' His dad murmured. 'That it would.'

They next went to the Owl Emporium. Peter bought an owl he thought looked sleekly grey, and named it Rex. His dad promptly fell into peals of laughter, and he sullenly (but secretly happy) refused to talk to him. Quality Quidditch Supplies was just as awesome. His dad was just as much as a Quidditch enthusiast as he was, and they both drooled over the Comet 360*, much to Mum's chagrin. She nearly pushed them into the Apothecary, but Dad excused himself from going in. Apparently (and this was a good excuse) the smell of potion ingredients caused him nausea. It was at last that Peter went to the dreaded shop, Ollivanders.

The bell tinkered just as ominously as it always did. Peter smelled the dust and the wood shavings in the shop. Ollivander literally appeared out of thin air. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Parker.' He said looking at me. 'Here for your wand then?'

'No, I thought the place looked lovely.' He quipped back, not sure where that had come from. Ollivander did not mind his cheek and carried on speaking.

'Your father's wand is spruce with a core of dragon heartstring, pliant, 12 inches long. Your mother's is a wand of rowan with a core of unicorn hair, 10 and a ½ inches long, and rigid.' He said, as the tape measured Peter's hand. 'It would be quite interesting to see your match then.' He went to the shelves and handed him a wand. 'Black walnut with a core of unicorn hair, 11 inches, unbending.' Peter waved the wand and a glass vase shattered.

'Definitely not.' The wand maker muttered, giving him another. 'Try this. Willow with a core of dragon heartstring, 14 inches long, bendy.' This time, the boxes fell off the shelf. Ollivander had an unusual look of excitement in his eyes. 'I wonder-' He trailed off, then went back into the shelves again. His dad whispered to him.

'Wands are important though.' He said. 'Ollivander's usually happy when he sees a tricky match.' It didn't make Peter feel less anxious though. The old man came out again.

'Try it.' Peter had done so no sooner when he felt the familiar warmth of wand meeting master. Ollivander looked strangely at him.

'Holly and phoenix feather, 13 inches long and unyielding. *' Peter froze. This was Harry's wand! 'Quite curious, given that holly is rather difficult to pair with the detached phoenix core.'

'This wouldn't have come from Fawkes, would it?' Peter blurted, then shut his mouth. Ollivander gave him a calculating look.

'How you know of Dumbledore's familiar; I will never understand. But I thought you would have atleast known that Fawkes is not the only phoenix in England.' Peter had the decency to look embarrassed as his father paid 7 Galleons to Ollivander, and went out into the sunlight filled street, ready to go to his new home.

 **A/N: So. So...this is my first attempt. Not a really long chapter (atleast to my standards), but there you have it. A couple of things I should clear up.**

 ***(1)-I'm not sure which broomstick was being manufactured in the 70s (didn't bother to check too), so I stuck with a Comet 360. It sounds nice and even.**

 ***(2)-Holly suits Peter's** **predicament. He's prone to impetuosity, and undergoing a quest of sorts. The phoenix core is characteristic of his latent potential, though that will be shown later.**

 **K2SC**


	2. Chapter 2: Some Familiar Strangers

September 1st drove Peter to the brink of tearing his hair out. His Mum hadn't helped matters when she forced him to study the textbooks. Grumbling, he set down An Introduction to Magical Theory and began to read it. That was two hours ago and he was running out of ideas to convince her that he really was studying. His dad was a great help in this regard—telling Dexter the house elf to bring up snacks every fourth minute. Basically, this was how it went until they had to pack up.

'Peter, your owl!' His mum yelled, dragging the bronze owl cage. His dad shuffled besides him, shutting the trunk tightly. They left the house, amidst tearful farewells from Dexter. Peter held his parents' arms firmly. He never wanted to let go—the past month had felt like one of the best days of his life.

 _So will Hogwarts_. A little voice in his head whispered. He wasn't too sure about that, and tried not to think about it as he was swallowed in apparition. His eyes watered momentarily as he adjusted his balance. They walked a fair distance to the entrance of King's Cross and found a trolley for the trunk. Dad pushed it while he and Mum followed closely. They reached the portal, amidst strange looks from other commuters.

He had changed, he knew that much. Peter was no longer stuttering or hesitant in front of his parents. He had got quite used to them, and his dad being very uplifting made him break out of that shell. He wasn't timid, but he wasn't sure if he was _weak_.

Platform 9 and ¾ bewildered Peter. It amazed him that an entire secret society could be hidden out of plain sight. His dad stopped the trolley in front of the barrier. 'Now Peter, be careful. The wall in front of you swallows boys who have too much sweets to eat.' His mum clucked her tongue.

'That's quite enough, Ric.' She admonished, then said sweetly to Peter. 'We just have to go together through the wall. It's a magical barrier.' Peter closed his eyes as he felt the strange touch of the barrier. When he opened his eyes, the Hogwarts Express shone in scarlet belching thick fumes of smoke. He stared at it for a few seconds before he rushed through other students next to the carriage doors. His parents stood on either side of him helping him lift his belongings up the coach. He turned to look at them.

His throat seemed to have lodged something bitter in between. He needed to tell his parents goodbye, but he couldn't seem to say anything. His mother's eyes looked misty as she kissed him on his cheeks. 'Be good alright?' She said. 'Write to us soon.'

His dad just smiled fondly at him. 'Enjoy Hogwarts, Peter. It's going to be some of the best days of your life. And have fun while you're at it.' Peter couldn't help feeling a little too young when his lips quivered.

'I-I will Dad.' He said, hugging him. 'I'll miss you.'

'I know.' He said. 'But you aren't going away from me forever, are you?' The steam engine blew a shrill whistle. Peter broke away from the embrace. His hands were shaking badly.

'I have to g-go.' He managed finally. His mother and father nodded, and standing on the threshold of the coach, he waved a final wave before heading inside through the compartments. He found a mercifully empty room and plopped himself into one of the seats. The station slowly vanished into a countryside of greenery. He glanced the window idly before perusing his trunk and taking a book to alleviate the boredom.

Just then, the door opened and a boy popped his head in. 'I'm terribly sorry, but everywhere else is full. You don't mind, do you?' He said shyly, as if he didn't really want a seat. Peter shrugged.

'I don't mind really.' He said, and the boy sat slowly in the seat opposite his. He looked very familiar for some reason, and when Peter took a look at his eyes, the hair and the robes, he pieced together who it was.

'I'm Peter.' He found himself saying to the other boy. 'Peter Parker.' The boy shook his extended hand, and replied, 'I'm Remus Lupin.'

 _'_ _You should have realized,' said Lupin quietly, 'if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter.'_

Peter blinked furiously. So much for trying to avoid his future friends. Remus looked concernedly at him. 'Are you all right?' He asked. Peter shook his head to clear the thoughts.

'M' fine.' He said, looking interested in his robes. 'So, are you ready for Hogwarts?'

'I guess so.' Remus said, hunching his shoulders. Peter understood why—he felt as much as an outsider as Remus Lupin currently did. He opened his trunk to take out a snack, then gave another one to Remus. The boy took it with an expression of wonder.

'What is this?'

'Cauldron cake,' Peter said, now nibbling on said confectionary. 'It tastes quite good, you know.' Remus took a bite and smiled. Peter decided he needed to prod Remus further. 'Have you read Hogwarts: A History?'

It was as if Peter had uttered the magic words. Remus began excitedly chattering about the staircases and ceiling of the castle. He smiled at the friend he once had. Perhaps they would all be better off without him, the rat nosing around their posse.

Suddenly, there was a sharp thump on the door. Without warning, two boys lurched into the compartment and fell down in the empty seats. One of the boys laughed and said, 'By Merlin, where did you even learn that Potter?' The bespectacled boy smirked.

'When you've been as long in the field as I have Black, you'll pick up a few things.' James looked younger than Peter had ever seen. Then again, they all were. The duo seemed to realize they had intruded into someone else's compartment. 'Hello there! I'm just your awesome James Potter passing through. That's Sirius Black,' Sirius smiled toothily. 'And what are yours?'

'Just your friendly neighborhood Peter Parker.' Peter replied, a little miffed that no one got the reference. It was now very disconcerting to see all of them surrounding him. 'And that's Remus Lupin.' The mature boy waved a hand. 'Sit down.' Peter hesitated for a moment. 'Uh—you haven't got any Chocolate Frogs do you? My mum doesn't allow me to have them.' So they all sat together, still cordial and distant. James and Sirius were amusing themselves with the prospect of setting off the castle with dungbombs. Huh, and they were already off to the great start.

When the compartment door opened once again, Peter resigned himself to the fact that even though he wanted to flee to the edge of the magical world, fate always finds a way to bring him back in. Lily and Snape, the latter bitter as he always was, and the former extremely curious were peeking into the compartment. Peter made it his personal mission to avoid incident 'Snivellus Pants'. 'May we come in?' James stared at her with so much mushiness that it was Sirius who ushered them inside. By now, the compartment was full and space was mildly crammed. Lily sat beside Peter and Remus, while Snape and Sirius looked unhappy at sitting next to each other. And James? He was too busy gawking at the redhead. Lily started the introductions after Snape told them his name quietly.

'I'm Lily. Lily Evans. I've heard about the castle, and I only got my letter a month ago. I'm so interested to be learning magic, you know? I read the theory behind magic, and it's just so fascinating…' The conversation was going way above Peter's head, so he decided to quell Lily's pent up steam.

'I'm Peter Parker.' He said his surname with a grimace. Lily giggled while Snape smirked. James frowned at them.

'Think his name's funny, do you? _Snivellus_.' He said. Peter inwardly sighed—while James was a good friend, he was always a little headstrong.

'It's no problem, James. We all need a little humour sometimes.' Snape glared balefully at James. Oh, this wasn't going to help matters resolve at all. Peter redirected their conversation to Hogwarts, and was inadvertently caught in the debate of house sorting.

'I'm going to Gryffindor, _where dwell the brave at heart_!' James said, holding an imaginary sword. 'Like my dad.'

Snape coughed. Sirius rounded on him. 'Got a problem with that?'

'No,' Snape sneered, 'but if you'd rather be brawn than brains-'

'Where're you going, seeing as you're neither?' James laughed a little too loudly, and Snape flushed red.

'All houses have their qualities, good and bad.' Remus said in a mellow tone. 'There isn't really a best or a worst house.' He shrunk under the stares of everyone else in the compartment. Peter clapped his shoulders.

'He's right, you know.' Peter said. Remus shot him a grateful look. 'Where do you want to be sorted?' He asked to the group.

'Ravenclaw sounds good to me.' Lily mused aloud.

'Likewise.' Remus said. Peter had a go at it.

'Don't know. I really am not fussy about my house, but that's just me.' In actuality, he wanted to be away from them but he couldn't really say that without telling a preferred house, and how well would _that_ go down with the gang?

'Slytherin.' Snape said with a hint of pride. Sirius smiled wryly.

'My entire family's been in Slytherin.' He said. James looked at him with something akin to wonder.

'Blimey, and I'd thought you were alright!' He said. Sirius shrugged.

'Yeah. Maybe I'll break tradition and head to Gryffindor. Who knows, right?' Sirius said. Peter broke the ice.

'Have you lot heard of Exploding Snap?'

Once Lily had learned the rules and committed them to memory, James got down a set of cards he 'borrowed' from his father, and they all piled up the trunks to make a playing deck. The snacks trolley soon rolled in, and Peter pitched in money for the sweets. He did not want to attract too much attention to himself, but he didn't want to be a wallflower either. Sadly, the only incident of significance was Snape's burnt eyebrows, and when Sirius laughed at him, Snape promptly paid him back in kind by flinging a pack of quivering cards that made the wavy haired boy howl in pain.

That had brought up a few laughs, and when Sirius asked Snape his secret recipe for greasiness and eyebrows, everyone lost it. When they had mellowed down, Lily reminded them that they were due to change into the uniforms. Peter and the boys promptly changed theirs and waited outside for Lily to do so too. The train came to a stop when they were done discussing quidditch, (Although how Snape was a Quidditch nut was beyond him. Did he notice this back in his old world?) and they followed a huge giant of a man that Peter knew was the friendly gamekeeper Hagrid.

'No mor' tha' four in a boat!' He said, and James feeling good enough to sit with Lily, Peter had to bunk with an unwelcoming Snape. Peter noticed him glancing at Lily out of the corner of his eyes, and almost smacked his forehead. Of course! He fancied her.

'You like her don't you? Lily, I mean.' He said. Snape turned even paler though Peter suspected this was a blush.

'What? No, of course not!' He said rather quickly. Snape at age 11 really wasn't as blank as his older self.

'Why not Gryffindor?' Peter asked. Snape turned to look at the lake.

'It's for fools like Potter.' He muttered, watching the waves shimmer. 'Besides, my mother wants me to be in Slytherin—to live up to the Prince family.' He glared piercingly at Peter. 'Why do you care which house I go to?'

'It-It isn't really about foolishness. Gryffindors are daring and chivalrous. Do you really want to go to Slytherin with what's happening in the wizarding world? I thought you were smarter than that.' Peter finished with a sad look on his face. 'And why shouldn't I care? You're just someone like me.'

'I understand.' Snape said. 'But I need to go to Slytherin. You wouldn't understand—you don't have a house you really want.'

'Just know this Snape,' Peter mumbled, 'Lily won't be in Slytherin like you think she will. If you really like her, you can go where she goes too.' Hagrid bellowed when Peter was finished, telling them to 'Keep your eyes out fo' this one.'

Past the ivy leaves, underneath the bridge lay a sight Peter was already accustomed to, but not ready for. A huge castle, with gleaming jet black towers and pale yellow lights shining out of little windows came into view. Peter was well aware of Snape's jaw dropping like his already has. Hogwarts would always be magnificent, whichever reality it was.

The boats landed with a soft thud against the wood. Peter got down with Snape's help, and they gathered around Hagrid, who rapped on the doors three times. An elder witch with a stern look and tartan gowns answered. McGonagall was still as scary as she was. How time flies… 'Inside, all of you.' She said, and they scurried inside the entrance hall. Several students pointed and muttered at the grand staircase and the moving portraits. McGonagall cleared her throat and all the students (including James, doing an uncanny impression of the great squid) were silenced.

'Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor.' She said, gesturing to a great oak door. 'Inside the Great Hall—the door behind me—The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

'The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

'The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.' Peter stood there dumbly while everyone adjusted their ties. McGonagall reappeared a few minutes later, whispered, 'Quickly, inside now.'

The light was what blinded Peter. Besides him, the students fell into a strange hush, all in awe at the floating candles and the pale, wispy ghosts drifting around. At the end of the long hallway, a hat was placed on a stool. He waited for it to start singing, and it did.

Peter wished he had paid more attention, because he had drooped his head as soon as it started singing. Blame it on his nerves. Remus woke him up when the hat ended the song, ' _So put me on, before I sleep/Your House is what you need/Don't wreck yourself like a beater's bat/ For I'm your Sorting Hat!_ Peter drowsily clapped before he could finally see his surroundings more clearly. It was a long time until he was keenly alert.

'Black, Sirius.' Sirius sat down with easy grace onto the stool and the Hat placed on his face. He sat there for a long time, and Peter could see the older boy's lips pursing tightly. 'GRYFFINDOR!' The Hat yelled, and there was stunned silence in the Slytherin crowd. Only the Gryffindors clapped for Sirius, mixed with other houses. Then there were a lot of names before, 'Evans, Lily.'

The girl sat herself down, and two minutes later the Hat shouted, 'GRYFFINDOR!' Lily joined the Gryffindor table, while Peter glanced at Snape with a look that said plainly, 'I told you so.' Snape's face twisted into a scowl. Remus went to Gryffindor, so that was no surprise there.

It was another long wait before his name was spoken up. He mouthed, 'Remember Lily.' To Snape before Flitwick announced.

'Parker, Peter.' His name sounded even ridiculous than it was normally, but he ran to the stool and popped the hat down. He could feel the hat humming inside his mind. ' _Ah hah! What's this here? You, young man, have an interesting set of memories, half of which I fear aren't even yours!'_

 _'_ Just get on with it.' Peter muttered mentally. 'There's no need to go blabbering about a secret dimension traveler.' The hat gave the equivalent of a smile.

 _'_ _But of course! Your secret is safe with me till my non-being. Now, where to Sort you? I feel Slytherin would be better for you given the majority of your thoughts, but,'_ the hat hmmed, ' _Perhaps Hufflepuff would suit you?'_

'Just put me in a house they aren't in.'

' _And why should I, Mr. Parker? You have changed many things since you've been here. That takes a lot of determination, and Slytherin is right up your alley. Unless…but then why not?_ ' Peter looked aghast at the Hat's line of thought. ' _Better be—_ GRYFFINDOR! _'_ The Hat roared and Peter savagely picked a few choice words for that inanimate devil. He caught Snape's eye when he joined Sirius at the table, and nodded discreetly. Snape gave a single twitch of his eyebrows.

James went to Gryffindor—the hat hadn't even bothered in asking him his choice, he just seemed naturally suited to it. When it was the grouch's sorting, Peter abandoned his meal in favour of watching the exchange between boy and hat.

Snape took a long, long time—longer than anyone Peter could remember. He seemed to give the hat a look of deepest loathing while saying something quietly to it. Peter watched the expressions in the teachers. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle mysteriously, while Sprout watched fascinated. He caught words like 'Lily' in Snape's lips, but it was a full 12 minutes before the boy's clenched hands seemed to release. _Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin._ Peter chanted. The Hat yelled.

'RAVENCLAW*!' and Peter sank in utter relief. Snape cast a wistful glance in Lily's direction, but proceeded to the Ravenclaw throng, where a prefect greeted him. Peter returned to his food, and was very much annoyed when Dumbledore decided to give his address.

'To our old students, welcome back! To our new students however, welcome to Hogwarts! The school of witchcraft and wizardry you will enjoy for the years to come. It pleases me how you all stand here, young and healthy before me, but we must remember to always stand united, for Hogwarts is not a school without unity, and is not a castle without its inhabitants. Quite a departure from my usual speech though—I am pleased to welcome our most recent addition to the teaching staff- Mr. Owen Fitzgerald. He will be teaching for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, after the unfortunate incident of Mr. Brewster suffering from prolonged diarrhoea!' A foreign looking man waved at the students while the teachers politely clapped. James looked at the new teacher.

'He looks fishy.'

'I'm sure it's probably your imagination, Mr. Potter.' Sirius mocked, reaching for the chicken drumsticks. Remus tutted.

'D'you always have the habit of talking like that, or is it inherited?' Lily said, wiping her mouth with the napkin. James raised an eyebrow and smiled dashingly.

'Why my dear Lily flower, you do want to see what else I've inherited!'

Thus began the mutual dislike (well, partial discounting James) between Lily and James. Remus and Sirius on the other hand pretended as though Lily had not slapped James squarely on the face. The boy in question himself was looking dazedly at Lily before smiling soppily. Peter gagged. Sweet Morgana, was James always this bad at pick up lines?

Dumbledore looked curiously at their end and Peter flushed. Interrupting the headmaster's speech wasn't something he wanted to do, in first term of all circumstances. 'As I was saying, the Forbidden Forest is exactly that—forbidden and out of bounds. Mr. Filch has stressed to remind you of that fact as he informs me that it is home to all sorts of dangerous creatures including demons that can harm you with their twelve*—um, ah, just dangerous creatures. Off you go to your beds!'

Then they began filing to their dorms. Sirius and James amused themselves by blowing raspberries at every portrait in sight. Remus sighed with an expression of long suffering, and judging from the contemptuous looks that Lily gave James, it was highly unlikely that she would ever warm up to him. Nevertheless, they all plopped to their beds, besides their trunks. James claimed the bed next to the window, but Sirius wanted it. The result was a scuffle between the two that ended in a compromise—neither of them should have it. Remus politely refused and Peter guessed correctly why he did not want the bed.

In the end, Peter was the one who bagged the spot. As he lay in bed looking over the grounds he couldn't help but feel that he'd gotten all of them to great starts. And if push came to shove, he definitely will not the one to be shoved.

 **Whew! That's a 1000 words more than the last chapter. And now, time to clear stuff up-**

 ***- Snape could have been in Gryffindor, but even then his bravery was shown to be for Lily. I could be wrong, but Ravenclaw fits Snape. If I remember correctly, his protection in the Philosopher's Stone was a logical riddle that could only be solved by Hermione Granger.**

 ***-Reference to ragingfilms 'Welcome to Hogwarts'. Watch at the risk of severe trauma and dirtiness. It's also hilarious, in a twisted sort of way.**

 **Thanks to the Guest, and Alicia Mirza for reviewing!**

 **K2SC**


	3. Chapter 3: The New Year

Peter didn't enjoy the first week of school anymore than he did serving Voldemort, which is to say _not at all._

So he had resolved some scuffles between Snape and James (big deal), got the former in Ravenclaw and the latter in Gryffindor without knowing how he managed to wrestle Snape into accepting another house. Was Lily's attention that important to the bloke? If so, wow.

Peter also had troubles of his own. There was news about a random attack in a wizarding village, where someone started a fire. No one had been injured, the papers said but the aurors had speculated that it was the work of one man. It was _him_. And he was still alive and kicking, which mean Peter needed to be quick enough to find whatever _horcruxes_ he could. So, he needed to go to the library. But he couldn't just pop into the massive room, what with sharing a dorm with James and Sirius, suspicious duo that they were.

It was extremely tiring, just thinking about all of it. In less than seven years, James and Lily were killed, Sirius was carted off to Azkaban, Remus disappeared and Peter faked his death. All in all, not one of the better endings he dreamed of. The fact was this: save the world or get screwed along with it. No pressure.

The bad mood was also because of his wake up call. Sirius had resorted to flipping the covers, which meant Peter had rolled off his arse straight onto the floors. It hurt—a lot. 'What the bloody hell did you do that for?'

'You were sleeping.' Sirius shrugged. It was times like these that Peter really wished he could swear at the dog without corrupting him, but then he remembered that Sirius was already as corrupted as Peter was as an adult. Remus wasn't in a better mood.

'And that warrants waking us up early? On our first day, no less!' Remus snarled. James looked unaffected at the tantrum. Giving up, Peter began to shake himself up of sleep. Sirius looked annoyingly chipper.

'Cheer up, Lupin. It's a new start after all.' Peter decided he could do with that message. New start indeed.

The hall was as filled with students as Peter remembered it. Everyone wasn't in yet, so he had quiet time to munch on breakfast. Thankfully, Sirius had begun to tone down his tosser act, and started gorging down the salad. Only a couple of Hufflepuffs had made it to the hall at the same time.

Professor Flitwick carried a bundle of sheets as he strode down the tables. 'Your new timetables!' He squeaked, the weight of the load finally taking its toll on him. He handed one to Peter, and to the rest of the Gryffindors. Well, Peter thought looking over his timetable, History with the Ravenclaws sounded worse now that Snape was there. What a show would that be?

Gradually, the crowd swelled and now even a couple more teachers were dining in their chairs. Dumbledore was strangely absent, but then Peter decided the man wasn't bothered enough to come down for food. Sirius nudged James in the ribs. 'Is that Lily?'

The girl sat a safe distance away from the four of them. She looked positively murderous at James, but smiled at Remus. Huh, and to think he was being polite. She still acted like Peter wasn't there. _No more pity parties, Pettigrew. That's what got you in this shit in the first place._ He broke that thought and wrenched himself into the conversation.

'—So the bowl of punch is neat, but Snape needs something bigger.' James said. 'What about transfiguring his dress?' Sirius shook his head.

'To be honest, why can't we prank Snape by dousing him in slime? It'd only make him look less greasy.' The boy said.

'And that's quite enough.' Remus said sharply. 'Why on Earth would you need to prank someone, _anyone_ on a first day of school?'

'Why Lupin, you have just appealed to our voice of reason!' Sirius proclaimed.

'Too bad we don't find sitting still well enough—'

'Or unpranking the school—' Peter cut in.

'Is that even a word?' He said. 'And secondly, why Snape? There are dozens of sneaky Slytherins for that.' Sirius made to say something, and then stopped.

'Now that you mention it Parker, it does sound like a good idea.' James agreed. 'But who should be the target?'

'The entire house?' Sirius said. Peter understood where those anti-Slytherin comments were coming from.

'Shall we have this conversation for later, guys?' He said, as they all slung their bags over their shoulders. 'I don't fancy a teacher chewing down on us at the start of term.' Remus shot him a grateful look, and the duo talked about the Cup run for some time. They had Transfiguration first, which Peter hated the most of all—the best reason being he wasn't good at it.

In their bunch of 'Marauders', Peter was the escape artist. James may have been the first to find the hidden passages; Sirius might have responsible for the secret classrooms and Remus was definitely the one who was behind the Map. But Peter was the only one who knew them _all_ like the back of his hands. It was the reason he was often bait for Filch or McGonagall while the others carried out their pranks. The class was a fairly short distance, being located on the broader side of the castle and closer to the hall. Peter noticed a familiar tabby cat standing taut on the front desk before their chairs. He mouthed, 'Really, Professor?' to the cat, which blinked (blinked!) before standing as stiff as before.

Peter sat beside a Hufflepuff named Chang, whose first name he neither remembered nor cared about. James, hoping to get a closer glimpse of Lily sat next to Mary MacDonald, the girl who batted eyelashes at Sirius. Merlin, this was getting old too soon. Quite abruptly, the cat leapt into midair and simultaneously transformed into a lady with a tartan gown. The entire class was startled, with a few notable exceptions. James had a hungry look in his eyes, and Peter could already feel his brains working towards becoming an Animagus.

'Five points to Gryffindor, Mr. Parker.' She said, looking at him. 'Out of all the students here, only you have seemed to grasp why a cat was sitting on a desk.' She looked around the class. 'Good morning, first years and welcome to Transfiguration class. As I have informed you before the Sorting, I am Professor McGonagall, your Transfiguration professor.' She waved her wand at the board and writing in chalk appeared. 'An Introduction to Transfiguration', it read. 'Can anyone tell me what Transfiguration is about?' A couple of hands shot up. 'Yes, Miss Evans?'

'Transfiguration is a branch of magic that focuses on the alteration of a form or the appearance of an object by altering the structure of the object.' She finished in one breath. McGonagall smiled.

'Another five points to Gryffindor, I think.' She said. Chang cut in.

'Transfiguration is also precise, isn't it? We can't wave the wands about for show.' He said. McGonagall nodded, giving points to Hufflepuff.

'Yes, it is. Transfiguration is very precise, and controlled. One wrong movement or the wrong incantation can lead to disastrous results.' She said, magically lifting a box that rattled. 'Today we shall study transformation of objects. Everyone, take one match from the box and return to your places.' All the students scrambled to take the matches. 'No more than one, Mr. Black.' She warned at the boy who looked to sneak in three.

When they had returned to their places, McGonagall held her wand visibly and said; 'Now the incantation for the spell is 'Acufors'. Repeat after me- _Acufors_!'

' _Acufors_!' They yelled. McGonagall went on, 'The spell turns matches to silver needles. Now repeat the incantation loudly, clearly and firmly. Visualise the match turning to needle.' And thus the rest of the class went. Peter hesitated at first—he did not want to make McGonagall think he was a prodigy in magic. So he settled for trying to deliberately mess up. This he accomplished by enunciating the spell in whatever way he could mess up.

'Fingerfors.' He almost whispered, before remembering that the wrong incantation might actually make fingers out of a matchstick. So he settled for saying it loudly, and slowly. ' _Acufors._ ' He focussed on turning it pale grey, and the matchstick obeyed after a few minutes. He then tried to make him shine like real silver, by which time most of the students had finished (or completely fumbled, in his supposed case). James took to it like a fish to water. Lily did not, and this was another cause for discontent in their interactions.

By the time the bell rang, Peter had managed to get a strange look from McGonagall. He squirmed a bit under the gaze and almost bumped into someone on the way out. 'Careful now.' A boy said, moving past him. Peter shrugged off the clash and proceeded to his next class.

So far so good, he thought. Not that he was elated at this, the knowledge that the future of the wizarding world was on his shoulders. He didn't want it, but it was his choice with Dumbledore in that white space and his responsibility. Peter absolutely hated responsibility. It was one of the reasons he was a spectacularly inept worker for both the Order and the Death Eaters.

* * *

Remus did not know what to make of his yearmates. He did not know what to make of his circumstances, and that was saying a lot considering he was not exactly an ordinary student. Basically, Remus was a werewolf.

He must have been five years old when another werewolf had bit him. His parents made life for Remus easy and Remus knew that, knew that he had an easy life when a lot of other turned wizards were out on the streets. It was even more amazing that Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster had even allowed him to study here. His father was very sceptical of how a school would react to a werewolf student, but Dumbledore assuaged him that no incidents would occur.

It was nearly 2 weeks since he was in Hogwarts, two weeks since the last transformation. The pains still did not stop, as the days of the full moon approached. He woke up with his limbs aching. Remus Lupin felt like a particularly feeble old man when he clambered out of bed. But that was earlier in the day, and in the present time, the day was nearly over. The classes were very interesting. Remus did not have a lot of outdoor experience, what with being a lycanthrope and all that, but he did like reading books. He obsessed over anything that could make him normal again.

'So Sirius, any ideas for the next show?' James asked, the silverware reflecting light on his face. 'Don't tell me you ran out of material!'

Sirius poked his food. It didn't take much guessing to know what bothered him. This morning, the post came with a Howler from the Black family and Sirius's mum screamed louder than a banshee, telling all sorts of horrible stuff. Sirius couldn't take it much longer and the paper burned in his hands.

James let his smile drop. 'Come on, Sirius. This isn't about that Howler, was it?'

'You don't know my family, James.' Sirius said, and a small shiver went up the werewolf's spine. The Blacks were notorious for being one of the darkest wizarding families since there ever was magic. 'They'd skin me if I go back to Grimmauld Place.'

'Oh hang your parents, and hang mine!' James said lightly. 'It's not as if they're going to pop out of the fireplace, are they?'

Sirius stared at the Slytherin table. 'Everyone in my family has been in Slytherin. I never really liked that house, you know? Slimy bastards and backstabbing ponces.' He turned to James and Remus could see the anxiety in his face. 'My uncle Alphard was in Hufflepuff and they disowned him. What do you think they'll do to me?'

'Maybe you need to stop worrying about what could happen and think about it later. You're only thinking about stuff you aren't sure would happen.' Remus suggested. James clapped him hard on the back that already ached a lot. Peter looked as if someone had slapped him straight between the eyes.

'See, our bookworm's right!' James said, grinning broadly. 'If it's money you need, all you should do is ask me.'

Sirius regained some of his jovial nature. 'Or we could start our own shop and get Galleons. Think your parents would let us do that?'

James chortled. 'My mum would let me get away with murder if I could do it. Now, Siriusly Black, do you know where the kitchen's at?'

'No, my lord.' Sirius mock bowed. Peter and Remus hid a covert smile.

'Then let us be off! Farewell comrades, for we shall meet again on the morrow!' James said, and with that the two had raced away from the Great Hall. Peter turned to Remus.

'Are you all right, Remus?' He asked. Remus masked the sudden look of panic he had and mustered up a believable lie.

'Nothing, Peter. Well, it's just that my mother's come down with wizard flu and I need to be there. The Headmaster's given me permission to leave, you see.' He finished, quite terrified of whether Peter would accept that farce.

'Of—of course!' Peter said quickly. 'Er—so you need to leave tonight?' Remus felt a sharp stab of pain in his wrists. _It's getting worse_ , he thought.

'Yeah, I do.'

'So you need to pack your stuff then?'

 _No!_ 'I'm just going away for a couple of days. There's no need to pack my luggage.' Peter seemed to deflate a little.

'Alright.' He said. 'See you later then.' Remus sighed at the escape, but he couldn't help but be suspicious at how easily he was rid of prying eyes. Being a werewolf made him keenly alert to stuff other people couldn't see or hear. He sneaked through the Entrance Hall to the grounds and the shack Dumbledore told him about.

Remus tackled the small tree that tried to bludgeon him to death by poking a stick through a large crack in the bark. The tree stopped writhing and Remus went deeper into the passage. His back was starting to pound now. _Any moment now_ , he thought.

It was a subject of marvel to him, the notion that his life seemed as difficult as everyone else's. Sirius had problems with his family, James needed friends and Peter—he didn't know what Peter needed, but he did know that the boy felt guilty. For a fleeting moment, Remus felt it was better to be a werewolf than someone in the Black family. That was until the moon shone fully inside through the windows and he felt his body twisting into something grotesque. He lost all semblance of rationality and slipped into the mind of the beast. The transformed werewolf howled sadly, the wind blowing in tandem with it.

How long Remus was in the nightmare he did not know, but he woke up in more pain than he was before the night. The rays of the early sun poked through the shack and Remus dragged himself out as silently as he could. He made a beeline for the Hospital Wing, his tattered robes hanging about him loosely. A witch in white uniform stood inside near the beds. She gaped at Remus for a split second before regaining herself. 'Oh, you must be the child with the condition.' She said gently, guiding Remus to a bed. 'Your body must be tired now. I'll just give you some medi-potions to relax the muscles.'

She opened the cork of a bottle from the shelf. 'Drink up dear.' She said, and Remus slurped in the thick liquid. His eyelids felt heavier than ever, and he drifted into sleep. He dreamt terrible things, like him becoming a werewolf and chewing off Peter's head and then drinking his blood. He woke up abruptly to discover he felt quite fresh. The nurse came into view.

'Good afternoon, child. You've been quite tired, because it's been an entire day since you dozed off!' She must have seen the look of horror in his face, because she continued, 'Not to worry though, your friends pitched in to do your classwork.' She waved her wand over Remus. 'Your vitals seem good, so there's no reason to stay here then is there? Go on then!'

Remus leapt out of bed before remembering his manners and thanking the witch. 'Thank you, uh-' He started.

'It's Madame Pomphrey, Mr. Lupin.'

Remus felt his cheeks burn. 'Thank you, Madame Pomphrey.' He said, before departing for the common room. He ran to the Gryffindor portrait guarding there, before remembering he did not the password.

'Butterbeer!' Peter caught up with Remus. 'The new password is Butterbeer. Hello Remus.' He said, glancing towards the portrait every often. 'How is your mother?'

'Oh, she's good.' Remus replied. 'Butterbeer.' The portrait swung open. 'The flu was nothing to worry about, but they were more fussed about me.' He lied. The room was nearly empty except for two inhabitants.

'Lupin!' James said.

'Remy!' Sirius exclaimed. Whatever grim mood he was in, it seemed to have disappeared. 'Why do you look like you rolled in grass?' He asked. Remus glanced down at his robes before realizing that must have been what he did that night.

'I took a Portkey. It made me fall onto the grass.'

'A Portkey?' James said astonished. 'My dad _never_ lets me on one. How was it?'

That mistake of mentioning a portkey led to an endless round of questioning from James and Sirius ('Does it hurt? I heard someone once used a portkey in mid air and they broke their legs,' asked Sirius) that ended only when Peter had convinced them to quit.

Their own house not withstanding, Remus had to field several questions that day. Even Snape seemed interested in where he disappeared (but he tried his hardest to look bored) and Lily had sent her sympathies but not before glaring at James. Sirius whistled.

'Mate, she has it in for you.' Sirius said to James.

'So she's definitely in love with me?'

'Nah, I meant the bad kind of having it in for someone.' Sirius said. 'There's no way you can convince her to even say some nice words about you.'

'I'll have a bet on that.' Peter slyly replied. Remus gaped at the normally withdrawn boy. 'Three Galleons they make up by the end of seventh year.'

'Deal.' Sirius said, looking predator like at Peter. 'Care to make it five Galleons?'

'Of course.'

Remus also had to deal with a strange feeling throughout the day. Normally, even with potions, his body felt sore after transformations. But this recent one had not done anything like that. What did that mean? Remus looked over at Peter, but he seemed to avoid his gaze.

The year was getting stranger, and Remus knew it could only get worse.

 **I wasn't kidding when I wrote in my profile that I might take three months to make a new chapter.**

 **On that note, hello again! It's been a long break, and that was because I have been very** **busy and I'll accept that I never intended for it to be such a huge gap. So, this chapter is a filler basically. I wrote it to experiment with multiple POVs, and get a little perspective into what goes on in Lupin's mind.** **If it's good for you, do tell me so and I'll make it happen for this story.** **Notice that I haven't been specific with the timeline-this is intentional, so if that bugs you, sorry!**

 **K2SC**


	4. Chapter 4: Two Steps Closer

The ground looked dark, and Peter watched it in shocked silence. He couldn't know if it was a gaping pit he stood on or an inky black field. The sky above was red as blood.

The soil shook. Peter almost fell over when more tremors erupted. The dirt broke free and a skeletal hand emerged. Peter wanted to run, wanted to flee as far away as possible, but the hand gave way to a decayed face, but a face Peter recognised.

'You-' It said, climbing up from the sand. 'Kill-' Peter backed away slowly. Sweat beaded down his forehead. The gaunt face of James stared at him. 'Killed-me.'

'No! I couldn't-I haven't,' Peter stumbled. He turned around to come face to face with a horrifying spectre that looked like Lily.

'My son-' She rasped, her hand threatening to choke Peter. 'Dead-all your fault-' Peter could feel his every muscle want to run, but he was slow.

'I'm sorry! I hate myself for it!' Peter said, but more shapes emerged out of the ground, more skeletons that frightened him crawled out. 'Your fault-Your fault- Kill you-' They chanted, in an eerie monotone voice. His foot found thin air, and Peter turned around to see another crevasse, this one perfectly deep. His face was inches away from the undead. Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore, all of them still repeating the words like a death march.

His feet slid off the rocks and Peter fell down in that dark shadow. He was falling...

'Peter.'

So many miles...

'Peter!'

Was he even worthy?

'FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, PARKER!' A voice rang loud, and Peter opened his eyes. The light blinded him as he blinked several times to focus. A mass of black hair came into his eyes and nose, and he sneezed.

'Ugh, now I have snot all over my hair,' Sirius said, as he leapt out of Peter's bed. Remus and James surrounded him, like some Muggle doctors at an operation. The hazel eyed boy frowned at Peter.

'Are you all right, Peter?' He asked worriedly. 'You were doing a lot of screaming and yelling.' Peter couldn't meet his eyes. How could he, when the dreams were about them, about how Peter did unthinkable things to them?

'M'fine.' He said, opting to look at Lupin. 'Just a bad dream.' Sirius scoffed.

'A bad dream? You were thrashing about in bed, shouting your voice out.' He said. What had Peter done? Had he said the same things he had done in the dreams? Cried like he did? Moan like the bodies had?

'You're okay now,' Remus said, a hand on his shoulder. 'Just have something to eat, alright?'

'I concur with our Remus,' Sirius declared. 'It's Friday and I'm absolutely starving.'

'Since when do you use big words like concur?' James asked Sirius. The Black heir raised an eyebrow.

'Since when you started following Evans.' He curtly replied. James winced.

'Touche, pal.' He amended. 'But in all honesty, Peter, are you sure you don't need the Hospital Wing?'

'No.' Peter said. 'But I do need to write a letter.' To his parents, who must be impatient to hear news of his school life. After the walk to the hall and a breakfast later, he grabbed a quill and some parchment and puzzled on how best to start the letter.

 _Dear Mum and Dad,_

He paused there. Should he sound mature, or a little bit childish? In the end, he figured his parents should feel that he has a good time here, not that he didn't enjoy Hogwarts, but the guilt of living with the future Marauders is too much.

 _How are you? Hogwarts has been amazing so far and I love it. All the classes here are fun (except History, where a ghost called Binns guarantees instant sleep.) and I've made some new friends._

 _I 'm kind of nervous writing to you now because, I was sorted into Slytherin. NOPE, just pulling your legs, it's Gryffindor! I have three new roommates with me. There's James Potter, who loves to prank. His sole aim in life is to breed mischief and mayhem! Then there's Sirius Black, and he's absolutely terrified about his family (with good reason) and he goes along with James like two peas in a pod. And then there's Remus Lupin, who's so good at his homework I've been borrowing his notes (Sorry Mum!). I'm having a fun time just being with them._

 _Tell Dexter I miss his buttered pancakes and don't forget to write back!_

 _Love,_

 _Peter_

There. He dryed his quill and capped his pot. Just the right blend of seriousness and silliness. He folded the parchment carefully and trot to the Owlery. Autumn seemed to take over from summer, so it was still balmy, but not hot. He opened Rex's cage and the owl's claws wrapped around the letter.

'Parker Lot.' He muttered quietly to the grey owl. 'You know that don't you, Rex? Go on, girl!' The owl hooted before spreading its wings and flying away in the sky.

Friday meant almost no classes. With the exception of Defense and Flying, their afternoon was practically free. He did dread flying a broomstick though. They were safe, but Peter thought that finding his eyes fix on the ground a dozen feet in the air was a risk.

James and Sirius didn't think so. 'I'm going to be a Chaser, Sirius. I'll do so many awesome things on my broom that will leave everyone else in the dust. You'll see!' Sirius was no less enthusiastic in his approach.

'I can't wait to be in the air!' He exclaimed. Lily resorted to consulting her hands Quidditch book about instructions. Remus was the calmest of them all, and Peter envied his cool. He could tell that the boy was nervous about the whole ordeal, but he was jealous all the same.

'Welcome to Flying lessons.' A white haired, eagle eyed woman spoke. 'I am Rolanda Hooch, and you'll be learning how to handle a broom.' Peter glanced at Snape. After all, they had class with the Ravenclaws.

'Now I must warn you, it isn't easy. You need to stand next to your broom, with your hands-palms downwards, and say "Up"!' She said.

The way she said it, Peter thought she was easily bored at their newness to this charade. Thankfully, he did some prior experience the first time around, and it really wasn't something he wanted to remember, given that the broom didn't jump as easily to his hands as it did for James and the added fact that he ended up being forceful and the brrom hit him hard on the nose.

Peter ended up in the Hospital Wing, amidst laughter from James and Sirius. Not this time, he decided. Not this bloody time. 'Up.' He said, and the broom slowly rose into his hands. James had his shoot into his hands quickly while Sirius did a sort of twirl with it. Remus and Lily had some trouble in convincing their brooms to obey.

'Now,' Hooch continued, 'when I say 'Go', and not now Potter,' she directed at James, 'you will kick off from the ground with both hands firmly on it, and never let it slide off.' Sirius coughed slightly at the implication. 'On my mark then,' Peter thought furiously of flying, even though his heart felt otherwise. 'GO!'

Brooms all rose up in the air. Some, like Lily remained hovering above ground. Others like James looped and whooped as they flew past the students in speed. Peter found middle ground with the likes of Snape and Remus, who did know how to fly but didn't overly enjoy it. With that said, Peter enjoyed the calmness in gliding above air, thought ignoring the height was proving to be a tough ask. He yelled over to Remus, 'Enjoying it yet, Remus?'

The boy shrugged, before hollering back, 'Not as much as they are,' pointing a thumb in the direction of James and Sirius, who were now playing air tag of sorts. And that was when it happened.

Sirius was reckless, that Peter knew. But the fact that he was reckless enough to knock into Snape was something he had not expected. Snape teetered on edge at his broom, before slowly, but surely loosing his grip on it. Everyone looked frozen, even Sirius who had bumped into him.

Then Snape fell, arms flailing. Hooch wasn't around, Merlin curse that woman and Peter didn't and couldn't use the floating charm, as he had to stay in character. So he did the most exciting and possibly dumbest decision in all of Gryffindor history.

He dove after him.

It was instinctive. He could feel the ground rushing up, feel his heart almost burst but he had his eye on Snape, Snape who was so important to the future, Snape who would have been in Slytherin if not for Peter Parker. He prayed for the best and held an arm outwards.

Snape was grasped by the robes. Cheers emerged out of the tensed children, but before Peter could enjoy the attention,he remembered one important tidbit of information.

He was no Quidditch pro. And he definitely couldn't carry Snape with one hand. Shit.

The end result was that they both fell onto the grass. Snape moaned beside him and Peter himself felt his body sore all over. They hadn't fell at the height Snape would have had Peter not held him, but it was a bruiser. Hooch choose this perfectly opportune moment to come back.

'What is going on here?'

Gryffindor lost 30 points because of Sirius and gained 40 from Peter, which meant 10 points in the bargain. Sirius had a severe talk with McGonagall and his face shrank inch by inch until Peter was sure he couldn't look more miserable. Peter felt bad for Sirius. He didn't mean it, but Snape at that height could have had a broken back, or unfathomable death.

James was pretty shaken, as was Lily. They had never expected for anyone to have a brush with death so close in the year. Come to think of it, Sirius actually rushed the attempt on Snape's life, the incident in sixth year (which Sirius deprecatingly referred to as 'My Moony Mistake') coming to mind first.

James gathered the group and told them they had to apologise to Snape. When no one protested, Sirus reluctantly walked along to the Hospital Wing with all of them in tow.

Snape was lying in his bed with some Ravenclaw besides his bed Peter didn't recognise. The pale boy scowled when Sirius came into view.

'Look Sev,' Lily started, and Peter was immensely thankful for her persuasion over Snape, 'James,' The Potter heir actually blinked at being very mentioned familiarly, 'and Sirius have come here to apologise-'

'Look, I'm sorry Snape,' Sirius cut in before Lily could say anything. 'I really didn't mean to knock into you and all.'

'I'm sure,' Snape drawled, 'that you would have done something like that regardless of the flying lesson, would you not?'

'We don't mean to kill someone Snape,' James said agitatedly, 'Sure, we might tease someone if they mess with us, but if you think we're murderers, you're so mistaken.'

'And yet, I fell 50 feet from the air despite the good intentions.'

'I think you're focussing on a lot of negativities here, Sev.' Lily said gently. 'Peter caught you, didn't he? You do have something to be grateful for?'

'There's no need to appreciate what I've done.' Peter interrupted, before Snape argued that he didn't need the pity party. 'I just did what I had to, and I can't bear to see someone injure themselves badly.'

'Soft heart?' Snape taunted.

'Personal experience.' Peter replied softly. Snape had no reply. 'I'll have you know that no one in their right mind would want to kill someone, student or not just because they are from another house. Sirius is really sorry.'

The Ravenclaw intercepted the conversation. 'Dirigibles don't grow in sandy soil.' He told to Snape matter of factly. Snape lost the grimace.

'Apology accepted, Black.' Snape said. 'But if you pull another like that-'

'He won't,' Remus said. 'Not until he has reason to do so, isn't that right Sirius?'

The boy gruffly nodded, losing the tension in his body. 'Er-if you don't mind me being rude Snape, who is your buddy there?'

'I'm Xeno,' The boy said. His dirty coloured hair and wide eyes looked serenely at them. 'Have you heard of the Zigfar Conspiracy?'

'Uh-' James replied, quite at a loss to proceed. 'Sure, mate.' He looked at Snape with eyes that said, 'Is he always like that?'

Snape narrowed his eyes. 'He is my-' He paused, a little unsure. 'Acquaintance, if you will. He has a unique perspective about the world in general. Meet Xenophilius Lovegood.'

Xeno nodded. 'It's all because of the Wrackspurts. I told Sevvy,' Sirius mouthed 'Sevvy?' in horror, 'that they sneak inside the ears of people who brood.' Snape too had the good decency to look a bit embarrassed at the casual truth, and Remus had a little knowing look in his eyes.

'All right then Xeno,' James said, with an attempt to bring the conversation to normal ground, 'which Quidditch team do you like?'

Xeno's eyes brightened. 'Oh, I'm obsessed with the Wigtown Wanderers! I know all about the vampires they kill with their cleavers.' He leant in conspiratorially. 'I heard they're made of silver.' Peter didn't know whether to snort or laugh. He ended up making a choking noise. Everyone turned to look at him.

'Sorry,' He managed, 'I've had some Nose munchers end up in my ears.'

Xeno smiled. 'Get them out before your ears turn into noses then. They can make your ears runny!'

Everyone raised eyebrows at that. Some like Remus had taken to grinning and enjoying it. Others like Snape turned upwards to the ceiling.

Once they were done with their chat with Snape, the Gryffindors found themselves in Defence class, where Owen Fitzgerald stood with a gleaming toothy smile. 'Good afternoon, students!' He said welcoming. 'I hope you're not too full of food to sleep in class, because you're gonna miss a lot of lessons keeping that up.' He had a slight Texas accent, which Peter noticed when Remus told him so.

'Today we'll be staring on basic offensive spells. And that includes the Runny Nose Hex, and the Shaking Jinx.' He waved his wand at a dummy that just appeared. 'Basically, what they'll do is make your nose runny and your hand shaking. Now,' he paused and every student leaned forward in interest, 'Who can tell me how these spells can be used? Yes you there!'

A boy with strawy brown hair said in a tone of boredom, 'Well, it's hardly useful, isn't it? If someone wants to duel you, they might fight with powerful spells.' He looked challengingly at Owen, and the professor just smiled.

'Come in up here then,' Owen said, his eyes still mirthful as the boy walked unsurely to the front of the classroom. 'Shall we put that theory to test?' The boy looked nervous. 'What's your name, son?'

'Franklin Nott.' The boy said quietly. Owen nodded.

'Okay,' he said, holding his wand at arm's length. 'Let's have a little duel here. I'll use just those two spells, and you can throw whatever you got at me. Sounds fair?' Franklin nodded. 'Right, on three then...'

Franklin threw a freezing hex, but Owen dodged that and sent a beam of purple light. Franklin responded with a weak shield, saying, ' _Protego_!' and the spell hit it, causing him to lose his balance and fall. Owen sent another hex towards the fallen boy, but Franklin rolled off. He shot a curving bolt at the professor who sent a powered charm in the same direction. The spells collided and fizzled in air. Owen then said clearly, ' _Succutiocarpi_.' and the beam went straight for Franklin's hand. The boy had his hand shaking uncontrollably, and the wand dropped even with his tight grip. Owen picked it up with a simple Summoning charm.

The entire class was silent. Owen said grimly to the student, 'Good duel, Franklin. Five points to Slytherin.' The boy returned to his seat. All eyes were on the professor as he opened his mouth.

'Any spell,' He said, 'can be used in a duel, in a battle, in any situation provided the caster has sufficient creativity and agility. Ability counts for nothing if you don't have the proper aim to cast a spell.' Then he was back to his normal cheery self. 'And moving on from that depressing topic, let's practice our spells, shall we?'

Peter was paired with Franklin in the end, and he could not have been more excited. The boy did have talent for duelling, and he knew defensive spells that weren't taught until third year. The class was similarly divided, with Lily paired with a heavily built girl, and James paired with a sneering Slytherin. Peter bowed to his opponent.

' _Bow to death Harry_ '. He was back in that graveyard, watching Harry fight Voldemort to the death. He couldn't save him, had killed Diggory and fled as Voldemort raged at Harry's escape.

 _Not now_ , He thought as Nott said, ' _Petrificus Totalus_!' _You are a better man than that snivelling coward you were._ Peter sidestepped that narrowly as it brushed past the top of his head. He said, 'Flipendo!' and watched as Nott expertly deflected it. Hmm, time to get serious.

 _It's a miracle you manage to do anything right, rat. Short of getting your arse handed to you by a first year._ The voice continued. 'Shut up,' Peter hissed, as he watched Nott cast an unknown spell. Peter ducked under it and said, ' _Fumos_.'

The effect was instantaneous. Thick smoke began to spread in their corner, and Peter blended into the smoke, confident about his vision in obstruction. When it cleared, he was face to face with Nott, as he said, ' _Expelliarmus_.' And the wand clattered down to the floor. Nott held his hands up as Peter clapped him on the back, then returned the gesture.

'That's the second time I mucked up today,' he said remorsefully. 'You won't be so fortunate next time though, Parker.' Peter tilted his head.

'You're excellent at this stuff.' He agreed. 'But you heard what Owen said-creativity matters more than spells.' He decided to boost the boy's ego further. 'You probably knew more spells than me, but I still managed to win.'

'I'll remember that,' Nott said, as the class left for the door, concluding the day's classes. Owen had his eyes scrutinising Peter as he crossed the door.

He rolled his eyes. What was it with him and suspicious teachers?

* * *

Heavy snores spread through the room. The feast at night had been extravagant and Peter was famished from his duelling class, and hogged as much as Sirius, which was saying a lot considering the boy ate as much food as an adult did. No one was awake.

Perfect time to find what he was after. He gently lifted the covers off and placed a testing foot on the floor.

No response. He was relieved at that, and proceeded to exit the common room. Peter tiptoed quietly past James and Sirius, but he failed to be silent. ' _Lumos_ ,' A voice whispered, and Remus had his face shine pale in the dark. 'Peter, what are you doing?'

'Isn't it obvious?' James had woken up, his whisper sounding excited. 'He's going to prank the castle!'

'Parker?' Sirius scoffed, equally fervent. 'He might want to plunder the kitchens.'

'Actually,' Peter admitted, I was going to sneak into the Library.' James and Sirius grinned at him.

'See, Black?' James said. 'It was only a matter of time before our peacemaker wrought trouble,' Sirius wiped a fake tear, 'such determination to break the rules at this young age. I'm moved.' He leant forward. 'Would you have a bit of professional tutoring in this art from yours truly?'

'Are you all out of your minds?' Remus hissed. 'It's after curfew! If we get caught, it's detentions for all of us.' Sirius tutted.

'You know, Remy,' He said, 'there's a simple way to avoid that problem-we don't get caught.' James highfived Sirius at this.

Peter told Lupin, 'It's nothing harmful, Remus. We'll be back before you even know it, won't we boys?'

'I'm coming with you then,' Remus said, 'and no detours anywhere, ok?' A round of hurried nods happened. 'Peter, let's get this done with quickly.'

They had to wait a while before James held his hand upraised. The moonlight shone on a patch of silverly substance and Peter instantly recognised what it was. 'An Invisibility Cloak?' Sirius whipped his head around so fast it could have cricked.

'Where did you get that?' He asked in wonder. James shrugged.

'My dad had it, gave it to me. Simple enough, isn't it?' He said, raising it upwards with a flourish. 'Come on in.'

They managed to form a weird human train. James was in front, followed by Sirius. Remus, being the tallest of them had some trouble fitting between Sirius and Peter, who was at the rear. They managed to exit the room silently, amidst grumbles from the Fat Lady. Virtually every thing in the castle was now either silent or snoring. The stairs were a lot easier to use at night, and their route was almost unhindered.

Almost. Meaning Filch, and his cat, Norris who had eyes sharper than a hawk. A hiss and a yowl was enough of a warning for James to pull everyone against the wall. Distantly, they could hear Filch murmuring, 'Have you found someone, my sweet?' A beat later, he said, 'Must be the armoured statues...' And then trailed off. Peter heard the last of receding footsteps before he nudged Remus to urge their motion.

The Library was a long way off, but they managed to sneak all that distance. Peter threw off the cloak, confident that no one would be watching them. 'Look,' He told the boys, 'I'm heading to the Restricted Section, so if you lot fancy joining me, do it quickly.'

'No problems, Pete,' Sirius said cheerfully. 'We only need that book for pranking spells, and we'll be back on our way.'

'All right then.' Peter whispered grimly, then set off with his wand lit. He searched alphabetically and thought, _If I wrote a Dark book, where would it be?_

Deciding that he needed to pull down a few binders, he roughly grabbed a thick leather bound book. It was tightly shut and Peter had to use his fingers to prise the cover off. A bloodcurdling scream came from the pages, and a horrifying face stretched out of the sheets. Peter snapped it shut quickly.

There was another book that magically cut his fingernails. Why a book needed to have such a feature was beyond him, but the book only has one mention of Horcruxes, and that went something like this,

 _Horcruxes are the darkest work of magic that can be spelled by a sorcerer. In order to understand how a horcrux works, we must understand its history. The ancient magick workers of Egypt had practiced life magick without consente of the Pharaoh, which led to severe repercussions. As Ankaw Nukat noted...'_

The rest of the paragraph had more excerpts of other wizards and witches who knew that horcruxes existed, but not its working. If anything that deeply frustrated Peter, who was looking for an easier route than this.

Aha! His eyes focussed on the title 'Magick Moste Evile'. Was it his key to the answer? He flipped the pages rapidly until he came to a horrifying moving illustration of a man, or a humanoid something standing in a myriad of runes.

 _And then are thee Horcruxes, which are thee moste deepest, darkest, ande despicable piece of magick, of which we shall not speake nor mention...'_

Now ready to rage, Peter whacked his wand at the pages as hard as he could. The writings merges, then twisted and changed into something else.

 _Thee supreme acte of killing is what is responsible for damaging the soul. Darke wizards and witches who have soughte suche paths have often soughte to create Horcruxes, wherebye they commit murder to split their souls forcefully in order to prolonge their life, but in order to do so, they lose their humanity and hence their reasone and humor._

Peter had an unthinkable vision of Voldemort being a stand up comedian, before realising that humor meant the Greek version of health. This was what he was after! It could also explain why Voldemort became more delusional, impatient and terrorising as the years went by.

So Voldemort survived after the Avada Kedavra becasue he had his soul in pieces. And the ritual that night, why, _why_ , had he even done it? Voldemort had found him, but the moment he found the Dark Lord in that grotesque baby, he wished he could smash that head against a solid wall. But that was a skilled Dark wizard who could probably kill Peter even as a ghost.

No matter, he had found the secret. Now it was time to-

No. He felt something brushing against his ankles. A soft snarl down below and a voice that was callous. Time to run. He threw back the books to the floor over the cupboard and they fell with a loud thud. He could hear the clank of chains over a lamp, but he didn't stick around to find out.

The halls were still unlit, and as he had so wisely extinguished his light, he was groping in the dark. He must have hit the walls several times, because grumbling noises from the sides had erupted. He ran as fast as his eleven year old legs could carry him. And then there was light.

A mocking noise sounded from his right. 'Naughty naught student around! Naughty naughty sneaking around!' Peeves crowed.

'Shut up, Peeves!' Peter growled, but the poltergeist had already broken into a chant,

 _Peter Parker prancing round,_

 _Sneaking nights about!_

 _There were three, now just the one_

 _This little boy had better run!_

Peter dodged a balloon that he was sure wasn't filled with anything good. The rancid smell splatted on his shoes as he made a break for it and he turned down the stairs. Peeves floated through the wall and disappeared, leaving a wary boy trudging towards the last corridor that he had to use before reaching the common rooms.

Peter sank to the edge of the parapet, panting heavily. That had been a particularly close run in with Filch, and Peeves. All in one night. His eleven year old body and his 38 year old mind were physically and mentally tired. He was never going to go for a night out until he had enough reason to do so again. And then his adventure went to an all time high.

'Professor Dumbledore?'

 **Hello again! This chapter is a biggie-mainly because I felt it wouldn't look right as separate chapters. Even so, I normally don't make a habit of writing 4K+ words (like this one).**

 **And, wow! This story currently has over 350 views, and 8 followers. I never really expected this much of a crowd. Thank you, all of you who favorited and follow this story. Please do review after reading-my duty is to write, but I could use all your opinions on the direction this story's going.**

 **Coming back to the plot, Peeves was a last minute addition to the adventure. The little rhyme was just something off the top of my head. So, until next time**

 **Cheers,**

 **K2SC**


	5. Chapter 5: Just Work Ahead

'Good evening, Mr. Parker,' He said, the corners of his lips quirking. 'What, if I may ask, brings you out of bed?'

Peter gaped at the old headmaster. Of _course,_ Albus Dumbledore was the one he should chance upon. Bloody job well done, Parker. He stared at the wizard, unable to reply before mumbling, 'Uh, I was searching for my roommates,' he thought before adding, 'sir.' Dumbledore's eyes did that familiar, curious gaze.

'Of course, of course,' he nodded, not looking at Peter, but around him, 'I see you have encountered the castle poltergeist Peeves.' He waited for Peter to reply, who realized he shouldn't know about the mischief making ghost. He nodded quickly. 'But I would assume,' his eyes turned particularly bright blue, 'that your roommates are more than just acquaintances?' He continued, 'Perhaps they decided it is a lovely night for a stroll?'

Peter was saved the trouble of answering when James and the gang burst into the scene, stunned looks on their faces. Remus wringed his hands silently while James said brilliantly, 'Oh hello, Peter! We were just searching for you!' Sirius wrapped his arm around Peter's shoulders.

Sirius put on his most convincing face. 'It was terribly stuffy in the dorms, er, Headmaster,' His hand squeezed Peter's muscles. 'The weather is nice too, you know?' Remus made to say something but James stopped him.

'We are really sorry for being out during curfew, but with the best of intentions-'

'And upholding conventions,' Sirius said, 'We'll return to bed!'

Dumbledore's eyes positively twinkled now. 'You shall do that, but I would like Mr. Lupin to stay behind.' Confused glances at both people in question started before James said, 'Alright then. Come on up, Peter.'

The last he saw of Dumbledore was him talking to Remus in low tones. So much for asking him some pointers in defeating Voldemort. He pretended to follow the two before he left them and sneaked back to the very spot.

'—Which you understand of course, but do your friends know?' Dumbledore was talking very softly.

'They won't, sir.' Remus said, looking downwards. 'All of them, they're just so happy, I don't want to impose.'

'I see,' Dumbledore said, and Peter nearly cried out in shock, because he was looking at the very spot Peter was hiding in. 'But you'll find, Mr. Lupin, that a burden shared is a burden lessened. Please do visit my office if you feel the need to do so.' Lupin went back up the stairs, and Peter slowly got up, trepidation in his heart.

Dumbledore emerged so quickly next to him, he might as well have apparated. 'Mr. Parker, I can see that you know of Mr. Lupin's condition, not through the conversation now, but a long while before. In any case, if you do want to share something, we can go up to my quarters.'

'What if that something I say borders on ludicrous?' Peter voiced aloud. Dumbledore chuckled.

'My dear boy, madness and genius are almost always banded together.' He looked up to the sky.

'But time is something we have in plenty, but take for granted.' He turned back to Peter, his beard quirked. 'As a particular saying goes,'

'The night is still young.'

* * *

When Peter woke up next day, it was Monday and Monday meant charms and potions, two things Peter was horrible at. For the most part, even though Peter was _way_ ahead in terms of spell casting, he was still extremely nervous about facing Flitwick and Slughorn. Unlike most subjects where magical ability was required, Potions was what he was slightly better at, and he morbidly thought of the ritual that needed such skills.

Breakfast was anticipatory. Students at large were excited for the new season of Quidditch in the school, and the beginning of October meant a mandatory match. Gryffindors were no exception to the craze. Peter noticed James field questions like an analyst and Sirius conspiring with an older student about a betting ring. It was the time for Quidditch fever.

Did Peter like Quidditch? For the most part, yes. He liked the way the formations proceeded and the acrobatics in the sport were tantalising to watch. Playing Quidditch? Not so much. It was terrifying enough that he had to dive after Snape to save him. In an actual Quidditch match, he would be down before the first whistle.

Charms was with the Hufflepuffs, and that was fine with Peter. Unlike the other houses, they atleast had no bone to pick with Gryffindors. Staring down Slytherins in DADA was trying, and seeing Ravenclaws swot in History was tiring. He was paired with a boy called Ed, and he seemed to know what the lesson was to be about. The class hushed when Flitwick took attendance. The small man stood on top of a pile of books as he jotted down names in a writing pad. His eyebrows rose when he saw Sirius, but otherwise there was nothing special.

'Ahem,' he said, beaming at them all. Flitwick was so jovial that he lifted Peter's spirits up. 'Good morning students, and welcome back to Charms! Unlike the previous class where we copied down notes, today's lesson will be,' he brandished his own wand, 'practical. So I must ask all of you to use your wands for this exercise.' Everyone withdrew their sticks and Flitwick started again. 'We shall now be learning the Levitation Charm, and the incantation for it is _Wingardium Leviosa._ Everyone repeat after me,' He waved his wand in a particular fashion. ' _Wingardium Leviosa_! It's a swish and a flick. Go on then,' and he watched everyone attempt the spell. There were uncoordinated shouts of 'Leviosa!' and 'You're poking me!' all at once. After nearly two minutes of this, a feather started hovering in mid air.

'Excellent, excellent!' He squeaked, looking past Peter. Lily looked extremely flustered as she stood there, wand in air and eyes on the feather. 'Ten points to Gryffindor, for such technique in casting Miss Evans!' He turned to the group. 'Who else has done it? Yes, Mr. Parker, you should lift the wrist a little bit higher but good nonetheless.' He looked at Ed. 'And Mr. Bones, solid incantation for the spell. Try a little more emphasis on action-Oho Mr. Potter, they are not supposed to tickle Mr. Black's nose, and you over there-'

The class grew even more noisier and some of the livelier demonstrations involved the feathers bursting into little pieces, and one student even managed to set theirs on fire. When the bell rang, Peter saw Flitwick pull Lily aside to talk about something. Sirius grabbed his shoulder roughly and he whacked the boy back in turn. He grinned shamelessly as he did the same to James, and the spectacled kid chased him.

They had a break before triple Potions. Peter and everyone else groaned at that. Three hours of sitting in a stuffy dungeon isn't exactly fun, but he used the 15 minutes of spare time to gather his thoughts on what he had to, no, _needed_ to know. So far he had no information of where Voldemort was, where the horcruxes were or what he should do now. By graduation, he needed backing and a little more of funds.

Money wasn't a problem.

If anything, it was getting it for use that was an issue. Peter's father in this world was in the DMLE, and they were one of the most lucrative jobs in the Ministry. He needed his _own_ money, but how? Unlike Sirius and James, he probably had no sizable vault of money or money for immediate use. The best he could do now, as an eleven-year-old boy, was write to his mother for permission, but he would have better luck with a banshee.

Why this sudden urgency about the money? Well, partly because Peter was unable to do much now. He needed financial backing, and while the sum of gold he needed was not Malfoy sized, it would suffice. His goal now was to create a business.

Peter had zero experience in the world of trade, and even less experience in setting up a shop, but he had to have funds by the time the war began in earnest. It would be possible to simply walk up to James and ask him about lending some to him. But he didn't want to. Call it pride, or an urge to be independent, but Peter did not want to be a bother to anyone. He did not need another remainder of what he was before stepping into this world.

There was another thing that bugged Peter. He knew most of Voldemort's operations, being privy to the information, but he had next to no knowledge about the wizarding world. His school life was more avoiding responsibilities than shouldering them, more passing his classes than learning in them. Quite shamefully, his knowledge of spells was poor. To that end two days ago, he forced himself to join Remus and Snape in the Library. They needed no push to accompany him in this endeavour.

James and Sirius balked at the change in Peter, but he ignored them. For probably the first time in his life, he actually looked forward to learning. Remus hefted history books towards his corner, while Snape copied notes in a private notebook, while glancing at potions textbooks. Peter, on suggestions from the two boys, started listing spells.

One thing that both surprised Peter and intrigued him was the fact that spells could be created. Creating spells required a lot of magic, and then some more for using them, which meant that it was for a later day. There were, from what he noted, nearly hundreds of spells created ever since magic existed. Some of them (like the Nose Hair Trimming Charm) were replaced by other magical alternatives. Others, like the stunner had deviated from their original purpose (they were actually created to magically induce comas for healing). He had a field day navigating through all the dusty tomes, and it was quite a while before Snape, of all people, suggested that they all switch notes.

Peter looked disinterestedly at the lengthy history paragraphs before grabbing the books with potions. One was written by a bloke called Zygmunt Budge, and he looked to be a very loathsome man, by the looks of the preface. Again, as with spells, the sheer volume of information he noted made his hand cramp. It was a Sunday however and as there was no pressure of classes until 9, he had all the time he needed.

He looked at Remus again, then turned away when the boy seemed to notice him doing so. Should he tell James about that secret, or let him figure that on on his own? It took the entire first year for Sirius to find out about the werewolf condition, and then too the confrontation happened in second year. Was he prepared to let that much time go by, when the matter could be resolved much faster? And there was another thing that prevented him from outright declaring it to the group.

His Animagus form was a rat. _Wormtail._ Ugh, that name made him want to puke. Every cowardly decision he ever made, was all as Wormtail. He had no wish to be a rat. He had no wish to be _that_ rat. The only solution that James and Sirius could think of was being the animal forms to join Moony as a werewolf. It was a terrible dilemma, so Peter decided that it would happen when it did, and left it at that.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he almost fell off the moving staircases. A hand roughly stopped him from careening over the edge. He turned around to see Snape. 'Thanks?' he said unsure, and Snape merely sighed long sufferingly, and went off in the other direction. The first year Gryffindors descended lower and lower down the levels until even sunlight was dim. The green tinged dungeons were exactly how Peter knew them to be. It was a strange sight when even Slytherin hangouts caused him to be home sick.

A man was there to greet them, and behind him stood the Slytherins. Franklin exchanged a quiet greeting with him, but the rest of the lot bared teeth at them. Fun crowd. The walrus moustached man hugged his belly before guffawing and saying, 'Well then, now that you're all here, might as well get this underway! Welcome to Potions class, first years! I am Professor Horace Slughorn, and before I start up on lessons, I decided it would be better to just introduce ourselves. Let's start with this young man!' He said, looking right at Peter, who had never been in dire need of invisibility.

'Peter Parker, sir.' He said, watching Slughorn's reaction. He was generally indifferent to the name, and Peter decided that was a good sign.

One period of Potions just wasted like that. What did Dumbledore know about Slughorn to get him the position since 1920? Maybe he probably knew about Slughorn, knew him well enough to give him three hours in order to establish himself upon new students. Their first potion was The Cure for Boils, and Peter was quick enough to gather the ingredients when Slughorn gave the word go. Carefully avoiding the poke of porcupine quills, he dumped them into his workspace, and set the cauldron's burner to a medium flame.

Peter was glad to see he wasn't the only one avoiding Slughorn. Sirius was looking keenly uncomfortable as well, and that could well be Slughorn's persistence in dealing with the older Black. He caught Peter's eyes and mimed choking himself, all not visible to the Potions professor of course. James bit back a laugh and even Remus crinkled his eyes. 'Reckon Sirius would last the rest of the class?' The Potter boy said, muttering lowly while grinning.

'I give him five minutes before he shuts the professor up.' Peter replied in kind, watching Sirius tackle his preference of Sorted house. Remus frowned at their discussion, but otherwise couldn't say anything. Their stages were going smoothly along, and Peter thought he might give Snape a run for his money.

Which was completely shameful considering he was atleast 20 years older than everyone else.

Lily was in the same flow as Peter. Her potion was of a milder colour, and she definitely had talent, but competing against a grown man's mind wasn't for everyone. The entire potion took two minutes to make, but it really felt long to Peter. Once he stirred 5 times clockwise, he waved his wand over the liquid and waited for the man to call out time.

Surprisingly, Peter had not garnered that much attention, and he didn't know what to feel about that. Lily had received praise from Slughorn about her 'commendable efforts for a first tryst' which was just a polite way of saying, 'I never knew a Muggleborn student could brew potions like that, but she's good!' This gave James a good excuse to stare at her again, only to get hit upside his neck by the potions book, by yours truly. And he wasn't even a teenager, so as far as Peter remembered, it was just pure interest on the Potter's part.

Children and their 'love'. Bah, humbug.

So come weekend, when he decided to relieve some of that tension he had (and the Quidditch related stress of everyone else), getting the lot to read a stuffy book wasn't exactly the brightest idea. James _scrunched_ his nose up at the title, while Remus glanced perplexedly at Peter for bringing a book for common reading. Sirius read the title out loud.

'Occlumency? Pete, I hate to tell you this, but it looks barmy.' He peered closer at the book. 'See, even the guy who wrote it is barmy.'

Lily huffed. 'It's Barnett, and his commentary in it is so good!' She pointed out. 'But really Peter, what good is learning this?'

'I thought it was obvious,' A familiar voice said and the entire group turned to see Snape, 'The Mind Arts are a method to focus both mind and magic.'

'How did _you_ get inside?' James said, frowning at him. Snape gave his best sneer.

'Please, Potter,' He remarked. 'Gryffindors have such a mundane password for security. _Orsus_? Be thankful no one thought of sneaking inside your dorms yet.'

'The Ravenclaw entrance has a riddle, and you're one to talk?' Peter replied, at which Snape glared at him. 'Anyway, you were saying something about focussing mind and magic?'

'Yes,' He said, glaring disdainfully at Sirius, which looked quite comical from a child. 'Occlumency is a method of blocking the mind against Legilimency attacks.'

'Isn't Legilimency the art of reading minds?' Remus supplied. Snape nodded, almost relieved that someone was knowledgeable. 'That's seventh year material!'

'Someone can read our minds right now?' Sirius cut in, looking aghast. 'And this occluding thing can stop them?'

'Atleast you're catching on, Black,' Snape said. 'Now Parker, is there any outstanding reason why we should be knowing it?'

'Well,' Peter cleared his throat. He had read quite a lot about this, and he knew some of the inherent benefits in the exercise. 'First off, it makes our spells stronger.' He held out one finger. 'Two, like Sirius pointed out, it can block someone reading our thoughts. Three, it tunes the mind for information and calms emotions.'

'Like information for studying?' Lily queried, her eyes already working out the things she could do. 'And scoring better marks in examinations?'

'Er,' Peter fumbled. That wasn't what the subject was about, but he plodded on. 'Not exactly, but you never know until you try, eh?' His tone became more sombre. 'So, shall we do it?'

There was a taut silence while the children tried to process what this meant. James hesitated, then spoke, 'If it's okay for pranks, it's alright for me.' Sirius shrugged, his eyes smouldering.

'Yeah, I need it. I _want_ to learn it. And I will,' he said, as if daring anyone else to contradict him. It didn't take much for Peter and the rest to guess what Sirius was on about. Peter nodded in understanding. The young werewolf drooped his shoulders in deep thought before replying.

'It definitely helps to calm the body?'

The tone was so heart-breakingly innocent that Peter had to say, 'Yes.' Remus gave his acceptance, while Lily also showed her interest. They all turned to Snape, who looked at them dryly.

'I don't have any choice in the matter, do I?' Snape said, sighing. 'Merlin knows what you lot can do in the name of learning.' He caught their glares and relented. 'I'll bloody accept!'

They spent the rest of the day searching for unused rooms. Sirius and James practically devoted themselves to the task-it took them under two hours (in that huge castle) to find an empty abandoned classroom. The room reeked of unuse, and Peter's concerns about the state of the room were not alleviated when the door fell off its hinges. Snape just gave a hissing sigh. Nevertheless, they all gathered round (after assurances that the floor won't cave in) and Lily flipped to the introductory page about the Mind Arts.

'Right, the first step is to clear your mind while closing your eyes.' Lily quoted from the book. James raised a hand in query.

'Uh, how exactly do you do that Evans?' Snape tsked impatiently.

'You have to clear all emotions, be blank and not feel anything.' He said. Sirius narrowed his eyes.

'You seem to know an awful lot about this Occlumency.' He accused. Snape's eyes darted back to the book before facing Sirius boldly.

'I may have read about it once or twice.' He looked coolly at Sirius. 'What's it to you anyway?'

'If I can suggest something,' Remus cut in before an escalation. 'Why not just meditate and see the results?' Snape sneered at them.

'Good luck with that.' He remarked. 'Gryffindors don't really have thoughts in their mind to calm, do they?'

'Say that again, Snape,' James said suddenly, wand in hand and very severe. 'I dare you.'

'For the love of God, would you all stop _arguing_ like a bunch of pre-schoolers?' Lily all but screamed, and that shut them up good. Peter cleared his throat and continued from where they left off. Merlin, getting them to a good start seemed monumentally hard.

'Look,' and he was fed up of their behaviour, 'you can either sit here or clear out. The door's not even there, so if you fancy flying off, no one is stopping you!' They remained still, glaring at each other. 'Sit down before I glue your buttocks to the ground.'

Snape stared mutinously at him. Peter repeated, 'I am not kidding, I do know how to do that.' And everyone obeyed. 'And close your eyes, like Lily said.'

Peter welcomed the silence that followed. It allowed him to take notice of his memories and thoughts, separate the good from the bad, and generally calm down. Ten minutes of peace followed before James complained.

'I can't feel my legs.'

'Shut it, Potter.'

'Whatever you say Evans.'

They hadn't gone any further than mind calming, but Sirius had a few things to say. He couldn't rest as easy as Lily, or James. What was more surprising however, was the fact that Snape was also equally as perturbed. Was Snape having trouble at home?

When the bell rang, Peter decided to explore the castle around a bit. Sirius and James may be the experts in the art, but Peter knew more passages than they would discover in seven years. He ducked under the statue of the one eyed humped witch and said ' _Dissendium_.' The statue revealed a caved hole that Peter could easily worm into. That wasn't the main concern however.

What he did hear were voices. Low, fast voices, but voices that were talking about subjects that chilled his bones. 'Lucius, should I remind you that our master requests your initiation?' A female voice said, oddly recognisable to Peter.

'How many times should I repeat myself? Just because I am to marry your sister does not give you the right to ask that of me.' A male voice growled. Lucius seemed agitated. 'I shall join on my own terms, now that Father has taken ill with dragonpox.' A few moments of silence passed before Lucius spoke again, 'What if someone hears us now, Black?'

'They won't,' sneered Bellatrix, and Peter could imagine her face twisted into that insane smirk. 'The passageways are one of the few that no student or teacher knows about. Even our _esteemed_ ,' she spat the words like poison. 'Headmaster doesn't have a clue. Now get inside before I curse you.'

Peter was now afraid. How would he hide himself from the Malfoy? He hastily whispered, ' _Talpaneo_ ,' and his body switched colour to match the walls. He sucked in his stomach while Lucius passed by, praying he wasn't caught. The sounds of Lucius whining left him and he breathed in relief. No more trips until he knew who was going where. That was a very, very close escape.

* * *

Peter had to bide an enormous amount of time. October was nearing and their promised Quidditch match against Ravenclaw loomed in the horizon. James was more vocal about the team's poor choice of selection and he wasn't alone. Apart from new starter Frank Longbottom and a couple of others, hardly anyone in the team could contest against Slytherin. Classes were on hold as the stands, for the first time in the year filled up to watch the opening showdown. Peter sat down there with James, Sirius and Remus. Snape stood in the opposing seat, eyes alight with determination.

The Gryffindor team flew into the open with loud cheers. Peter could barely hear what the announcer was saying if he had not strained his ears, 'And here comes the Gryffindor team, presenting Keeper Bletchley, Chasers McGonagall (Peter let out an audible gasp of surprise), Clarke and Mills, Beaters Longbottom and Cole, and Seeker Young!' They weaved around the ground and the cheers gradually died as they took their positions. 'And there's the Ravenclaw team, with Keeper Forman, Chasers Hopkins, Price and Stanley, Beaters Corner and Goldstein, and Seeker Bell!'

'That's Malcolm McGonagall, and he's been Chaser since his third year!' James gushed. 'He even won an award for it!' Malcolm definitely did look like he knew what he was doing, but Peter had never heard of Minerva McGonagall having another relative. Maybe she kept that aspect of her life personal?

From where Peter sat, he could see Malcolm swoop lower to Hooch at the same time as Philip Forman, and they both looked at each other coolly. They shook hands, and then went back to their positions. Hooch blew the whistle and the Quaffle was taken after a rough tackle.

'And they're off, the Gryffindors with the Quaffle, McGonagall passes to Clarke, what a player, and she has-'He paused for a moment and Peter saw McGonagall glared at him, 'Er-she's really good, yeah! Oh, narrow miss from a Bludger, she passes to Mills, Mills to McGonagall, McGonagall SCORES! The score is 10-0, in favour of Gryffindor!'

Unless he was very much mistaken, Peter was sure Professor McGonagall looked very smug.

'Ouch, nasty shot to Young, his elbow must have been jarred!' The voice sounded different. 'Meanwhile, Hopkins has the ball, and good Merlin, is she gorgeous?'

'Mr. Prewetts',' the Transfiguration professor said annoyed, 'could you kindly refrain from talking about _only_ the players?' Peter turned in the sudden news. Prewetts? As in the twins? Sure enough, they were in the stands, each of them sitting next to the microphone. They winked at the professor before resuming their commentary.

'Oh yeah, Stanley takes the Quaffle, the bloody prick who won't show us his Charms homework-'

'GIDEON!'

'I'm Gideon professor, not this git!'

'FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN-!'

'Alright, alright.' One of the twins said. 'Stanley to Price, Price to Stanley, to Hopkins, now Price-are you lot only going to pass?' He amended that statement again, cue the older McGonagall. 'Uh, I mean, Hopkins to goal, come _on_ Bletchley!' But Bletchley had the Quaffle score past his fingers and the ball sailed into the right hoop. 'Dang it! The scores are level, 10-10.'

'Now Malcolm McGonagall has the Quaffle, resident Chaser star, and certified witch magnet-' McGonagall seemed torn between refrainment and amusement. 'It's true, Professor.' The stands were now in roaring laughter. Even Remus loosened his mature demeanour.

The scores were still close after an hour of play. Ravenclaw, with their superb beaters, managed to slow Gryffindor's run into their own half. The other twin took over the microphone, 'In the same time, Corner has hit Young when he was just picking his nose.'

'Disgusting, I know, but a foul's a foul. Free shot to Gryffindor! The players line up for the close. Hopkins takes the shot. She goes back five paces then shoots off to throw! The wall jumps! And Forman gets a good save in, the magnificent bas-beauty, I said beauty, Professor! Ravenclaw with the Quaffle again.'

The match dragged on, and Gryffindor's chances were decreasing by each minute. The score was now a tall order to catch up to, and by timeout Ravenclaw had managed to gain a 150-point lead on Gryffindor. Their Beaters, save Frank had not performed to the mark, and Cole's Bludgers were loosing down on his own teammates.

'And the Snitch has been sighted! Young is belting off like a Muggle ballet-'

'Er, Gid, it's a bullet.'

'Right, bullet, Muggle bullet, whatever!' Gideon said animated. 'He's closing in on it, the Ravenclaw Seeker is only feet away, is he headed here?' Sure enough, Bell was closing right in and he wasn't ready to lose the Snitch either, both of them heading towards the north stands. 'The score's now 230-90, can Young get the Snitch?' Two heartbeats later, the Seekers fell down to the ground, their brooms oddly diving towards the grass. Bell stood up, looking concussed, because he fell back down a second later.

Young's right hand suddenly shot up, and two tiny wings poked out of his fingers. 'HE HAS THE SNITCH! YOUNG HAS GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WIN, 240-230, AND WHAT A NARROW WIN FOR GRYYFFINDOR! THE TEAMS ARE SHAKING HANDS IN SPORTSMANSHIP, BUT WE DON'T CARE! GRYFFINDOR HAS WON IT'S FIRST MATCH!' A few short moments later, the two twins were beaten up the head by an animated microphone, courtesy of the Ravenclaw supporters. Almost every person in Gryffindor couldn't wait to get inside the common room, where the real celebrations were.

'An' there's our wonderful Chaser heartthrob!' Gideon sang, hiccoughing into his goblet. The room was ten times noisier than they usually were, but Peter welcomed the festive mood. He could personally do with a bit of cheering up. Malcolm to his credit, refused to blush despite the ribbing.

'McGonagall, he's our dashing star!' Gideon took up the next verse, in the tone of a sea shanty. James greeted them with a replay analysis with a borrowed Omnicular. Sirius was talking animatedly with Hopkins, looking every bit like a playboy pro.

'From Caithness to that damned Ipswich Town!'

'Barry Young, one-handed all star!'

'Nice night for it, huh?' Sirius said, after the party mellowed somewhat. The Prewett twins were still yelling tone deaf lyrics of Wizard bands world over. 'Next week is Halloween, and Peter, we _need_ to do something.'

'Do what?' Remus asked. He has never known about the gala stuff that happens at Hogwarts during All Hallow's Eve. That was, and still is, Peter thought with a heavy heart, something which only he would ever know. James looked back at Sirius before replying.

'Pranks.' He caught Remus looking unhappy. 'Come on Remus, just one little show, please?'

'Remy please?' Sirius had his eyes widen to almost inhuman proportions. 'We do require your excellent spellcasting services, of course.'

'Fine.' Remus said with some difficulty. 'Where are you going to do it anyway?'

'Great Hall.' James said. 'Where else are we going to perform?'

'Although we are lacking in ideas,' Sirius scratched his chin while saying it. 'We need a solid plan as well.'

'We're not going to get away with this are we?' Peter remarked, an idea popping to mind. 'What do you have in mind?' They went up to their dorm beds, after helping around to clean.

'Cheers to mischief,' Remus muttered dryly, as they all put their heads together. Oh, he had no idea.

 **I just went ahead and did it, didn't I? 5K words, honestly. But thanks for bearing with my absence all these days, and this is my new chapter. Lots of new characters, some who tie in heavily to the storyline. But that's for later though. _Talpaneo_ is my own brainchild for the Disillusionment Charm, _Talpa_ meaning 'chameleon', which does fit into the description of the spell. Loved writing the Prewett twins, I could have gone on and on with their dialogue, but I realised that I had to stop at some point. **

**A special thanks to Bluepanda800 for reviewing!**

 **Cheers,**

 **K2SC**

 **Oh, and by the way, observe Earth Day responsibly!**


	6. Chapter 6: Pranks And Other Shenanigans

**(I realized I hadn't done this before. So,)**

 **Disclaimer: I do NOT own the characters or the premise of this story. All rights of Harry Potter go to J. K. Rowling and her associates. Forewarning: F-Bomb dropped.**

Sitting before Dumbledore that night had never been more nerve wracking.

 _Dumbledore stared ahead, not in the least bothered by Peter's presence. Of course, he was also the one Voldemort feared, so he did have a lot going for him. Peter decided not to unnecessarily shoot his mouth, off, and so far that was successful._

 _They were presently near the entrance courtyard. Dumbledore turned abruptly into the end of a corridor and Peter followed. Stone gargoyles met them, with ugly faces and gruesome expressions. 'Drooble's Bubblegum,' the powerful wizard said, and the gargoyles shuffled aside, stones grinding on stone, to give them way. There was also a revolving staircase, and when they stepped inside the office, Peter was wide eyed. The room was filled with silvery instruments, half of them unknown in purpose to Peter. There was a bureau full of awards, and hangings on the walls in weirdly colourful patterns._

' _I always liked the fact that the flavour remained in Drooble's,' Dumbledore saw his gaze and said, 'It's not often a student finds himself inside the headmaster's office. That honour is usually reserved to teachers such as myself, at one point.' Peter still watched hungrily, at the worth of all the gizmos inside that office._

' _Please sit down,' Dumbledore said, as a chair gently touching Peter's legs caused him to sit down. 'You must already know of Mr. Lupin's condition, seeing as it is you who sends him moondew every fortnight,' Peter scratched his head apologetically. 'Nothing much escapes my notice, my boy, but it would be far better if you were to confess to your friend that you appreciate the person and not the illness.'_

 _Peter silently agreed with the Headmaster. The man knew the working of the mind so accurately._

' _Can I trust you Professor?' Peter said suddenly. Weeks of holding tight memories and secrets no one else was aware of didn't help his mind to rest. Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair._

' _Do go on.'_

 _And Peter told him almost everything. Almost, excluding the fact that he was a Death Eater, he was the one to betray James and Lily, sent Sirius to Azkaban the works. Of course, Dumbledore's frown grew more pronounced by the minute, but when Peter was finished, he was startled to see the man smile. 'Peter,' He said, 'For the better part of the week, I had been in a state of troubled mind.' His face suddenly changed to a pensive mood. 'Interestingly enough, I have had visions of things that did not happen.'_

' _Oh, but if they were real, then I could have been a Seer.' He remarked. 'I do know the truth, Mr. Pettigrew, and I admire your tenacity in changing the track of events.' Peter felt a shiver up his spine. 'You say that I, or my future self, had given you this choice?'_

 _Peter nodded. He was completely powerless now. If Dumbledore chose to, he could wipe his mind and go about his business. He gripped the arms of the chintz chair tightly. Dumbledore was in deep thought however. 'Many people, Peter, many people wish to change what they have sown. It was the sole purpose of meddling in time. For many wizards, regret runs stronger than love in the mind. Your case is an interesting one, Mr. Parker.' Peter turned to see the bright blue eyes. 'It is our choices that define us, far more than our abilities.'_

' _So you would say my choices ended up fucking the world sideways?' Peter hissed, knowing Dumbledore wasn't right._

' _I shall pretend to not have heard that, but I forget that you were a grown man in your time.' Dumbledore said lightly. 'To answer your question Peter, I say yes and no. I would not pretend your other traits have thrust you into the dark, but I would be a fool not to agree that you do possess moral strength.'_

' _Me?' Peter scoffed. 'Moral strength?'_

' _I have seen how you died, Peter.' Dumbledore said, with the air of forecasting Quidditch League results. 'I have seen how I died, but that is another matter altogether. You had ended up saving the lives of those who were in that dark, damp cellar.'_

' _I was weak.' Peter said, sidestepping the fact. 'Don't deny it.' He wondered how he found the courage to interrupt Dumbledore. 'I was blinded by power, and it was what killed me.' How did Dumbledore have those visions? Why was it only HIM?_

 _Dumbledore did not say anything. 'Do you know when I really died, Professor?' Peter said._

' _When, Peter?'_

 _Peter clasped his thumbs together, resolutely looking at the floor. 'It must have been the end of seventh year. We had all graduated and become wary, Voldemort was at large in those times. I went to my home to find my mother held captive by Death Eaters. I couldn't fight all of them-they took me to a dark room. I could hear my mother screaming. I didn't necessarily like her, but she was family.'_

' _And then I saw him. Voldemort. He gave me an ultimatum, accept his offer of joining his army or watch my mother die. I couldn't say anything; my tongue was frozen.' Peter closed his eyes. 'He set a werewolf on her the next day, at the full moon. It tore her apart to pieces. I could never look Remus in the eyes straight for three weeks. I was forced to tell them she passed away in her sleep. Even then, no one could attend her funeral.'_

' _Then James saw his parents die, and I thought desperately that somehow, Voldemort might stop hurting my friends if I joined him. I was a fool, a bigger fool than Uric the Oddball, and I sealed a deal with the devil. Two years passed, Lily and James married, Voldemort never bothered me again, and I ignored the results of what I had just done.'_

' _Then there was a prophecy, that said Lily's son would be the one to vanquish Voldemort.' He was trying really hard not to give in to the nightmares. 'A Death Eater heard part of it, and Voldemort thought it meant Harry Potter. The Potter family went into hiding under the Fidelius, and I hid out of fear for my life. James made me their secret keeper, suspecting that Voldemort would target Sirius instead. Next morning, I woke up in a cold cellar, and two masked men put me under the Crucio for the better half of an hour. I still didn't know how they found out it was me.'_

' _I would have gone mad. My friends were the only thing holding me to sanity, but then out of the corner of the room, a voice told me to give them the location. It must have been my dumb luck or insane courage, but I didn't speak while they tortured me.'_

' _Do you know what I thought those moments? I thought I was going to die, that no one would even know I was dead. It gnawed at me, the fact that no one would appreciate that Peter Pettigrew had sealed his lips to save his friends. I was weak, both in mind and body after three days of the same routine.'_

' _But the Death Eaters were relentless. They even used Muggle methods of torture, holding my head under water, cracking my bones, whipping, they did not stop. And then I thought I realized something—none of my friends were coming for me. It was a scary thought, sir, the feeling of being ignored. You can be loved, praised, envied, or even hated, but ignorance burns more than all of them. And a week later, I cracked.'_

' _I told them. I couldn't take it anymore, I could have died, but I did it. They dumped me in the middle of an alley, and I scrambled for Godric's Hallow, but Sirius caught up with me first. He knew what I did, and he shot Killing curses at me. I deserved that, though. But he wouldn't listen to reason.'_

' _I won't pretend that what happened next wasn't my fault. There was a small part of me that resented my friends. I admired them, even liked them but the feeling of being the runt grinded on me. I was delirious, I was in tears, I was half mad. The Blasting curse I did killed many Muggles, and all I could think of was how to escape. I cut my finger, and I apparated away.' Peter said, careful to omit the Animagus transformation. 'Sirius went to Azkaban, and Remus faded away. That was when I died.'_

' _Peter,' Dumbledore said, touching the boy's shoulders. 'You are right,' He said. 'But self-hate would get you nowhere, and especially in now of all times, when the world needs you the most.' He got up, lightly trailing his fingers on an empty bird perch. 'You have read the papers, I believe, and you know as well as I do who was behind that. If you have anything helpful, anything at all, there is no better time for me to hear it, if you are up to it.'_

 _Peter took a deep breath. 'He's called Tom Riddle, a student of yours.'_

 _Dumbledore's eyes drooped. 'So it was him, after all this time then.'_

' _He starts an army of wizards and witches, called the Death Eaters.' Peter continued. 'Some of them were his classmates, others he bought, or threatened. Professor, he splits his soul.'_

' _He does?' Dumbledore repeats, thunderstruck. 'Tom, what have you done?' He murmured._

' _Professor, he made horcruxes.' Peter said, feeling slightly guilty of the look on Dumbledore's face. 'And they need to be found now.'_

' _They shall,' Dumbledore said gravely, 'I had thought that Tom could have been saved, but killing for Horcruxes—no man has ever been so recklessly dangerous. He has to be stopped.' He loomed over to a glassy case. 'Peter, what we have just discussed must never leave this room. Do you understand me?'_

 _Peter knew the seriousness of the subject and agreed with a nod. Dumbledore now gave a sad smile. 'Your teachers have been informing me that you possess remarkable aptitude. Yes, even Professor Slughorn, though he was careful not to show it. Your knowledge and vast reserve of magic have served you well.'_

' _They have?'_

' _Think of the body and magic as two separate but interconnected entities. One matures in appearance, the other only through the maturation of one's magic. As you were nearing 40 years in the other universe, it suffices to say you are on par with most adult wizards and witches. And dare I say it, one day surpassing mine?' Dumbledore explaining, musing towards Peter's condition._

 _Their talk was over and Peter felt extraordinarily tired. It might have been due to the time (it was well past midnight), and the information he just shared. Dumbledore guided him over, despite being an important man, as they walked to the common room. Dumbledore held his arm in as Peter went towards the portrait hole._

' _You have been gifted with a unique opportunity, Mr. Parker. Remember that.' Dumbledore said in a low voice. 'You have the choice and knowledge to shape the future. Guide your friends. Help your classmates. They will make mistakes, they will fall, but in time, they will be ready for what's ahead.'_

Sitting there, with tension bubbling in his stomach, Peter thought suggesting this sort of prank wasn't a good idea.

It was Halloween, the day of James and Lily's death. But he didn't want to think about that now.

James and Sirius had gotten straight to business. The Potter boy sent a letter to Dr. Filibuster's discreetly, while the blue eyed menace had got himself the most dangerous task.

Distracting Mrs. Norris.

Which was quite frankly easier said than done. After all, it _was_ a Kneazle, and they were sharp eyed buggers. Remus and Peter resigned themselves to working out the start of the prank. 'What I don't get,' Remus said, 'is why they need to mess with food,' crossing out another spell, 'when the prank is about fireworks?'

Peter shrugged. It was a joke, and jokes were hardly logical, much less thought over. 'This is James and Sirius we're talking about. Unless you were in the other half of the world, this is something I know you expected.' He peered at the paper. 'How about _subficio_?'

'Too risky,' Remus argued. 'The spell is for creating a spectrum of light, and fireworks are somewhat a light show. It may chain together.'

'What about the tapestry charm?'

'What, you want it to emerge from the wall hangings?' Remus said dubiously.

'No one would expect it.' Peter said slyly.

Remus sighed. 'Sometimes I wonder if you are half as bad, if not worse than those two.' He mused aloud.

'I wonder about it too.' Peter assured him solemnly. They stared at each other before they both threw their heads back in laughter. A sharp voice from the end of the room pierced their ears.

'Would you please maintain silence in there? This is a LIBRARY!' Irma Pince screeched, irritated. They chorused apologies back to her.

Remus took his nose back to the pages, silently chuckling. 'I'm glad to be your friend, Peter.'

Peter tutted. He was too morose to deal with mushiness. 'We are about to prank the school, and _now_ you're moping about friendship? I thought you were better than this, Remy.'

'Oh, ha ha.' Remus said dryly, but with a smile on his face. 'I still don't like this idea.'

'Me too,' Peter said, standing up. 'but it's nearly time now. You practiced the wand movements right?'

'Peter,' Remus said, 'at the risk of sounding like Sirius, I do know what I'm doing. I may be sleep deprived from yesterday, but I know what the consequences are.' They walked out of the library.

'I think you need to chill a bit though,' Peter said, thankful for Muggle slang. 'At worst, we may get detention.'

'And detention isn't worse than anything else?' Remus replied. Peter could have said that death was worse, or watching your friends die, but he instead warned Remus about the stairs.

Breakfast was bustling as usual. James and Sirius however met them outside the entrance to the Great Hall. 'Set three crates of cartwheelers, pigs and Writworks right where you wanted them, Pete.'

'What's that?' Remus asked, curious as ever. They kept silent when the Fat Friar passed through.

'Fireworks that can write whatever you want them to, but in air,' Sirius said in low tones. 'I enjoyed kicking that cat's arse.'

'You did the school a great service,' James said regally. 'There can be no higher honour. Now let's get in before they wonder what we're up to!'

They entered the hall and made a beeline straight for the tables. 'Don't touch the pudding,' James warned them. 'They're charmed to make anyone who eats them turn gold and red.' They sat down, not a single one of them concerned about classes. They had a mission to carry out.

The halls were now lit by pumpkin lanterns at night. Food contained bats that were thankfully Transfigured. All in all, festive as Hogwarts could get.

Oh, how that was about to change.

They had agreed on a few things. The first clause was to not target only Slytherins. The second clause was to make this as harmless as possible. Which was why the idea to set an animated lion was shot down at once.

The staff trickled into the hall. Pomona Sprout, along with Minerva McGonagall, were among the first to enter to eat. When the Headmaster himself was the last to join the crowd, Peter motioned discreetly towards Remus. They turned their wands, beneath the table of course, and moved their wrists in a zigzag fashion. Peter targeted the hangings on the left side, Remus did the same to the right.

The tapestry quivered, but almost no one noticed it. A Ravenclaw first year screamed when a pink firework that looked remarkably like a pig careened through the air from the stone wall. Several more followed, all in blazing fashion. Students around every house watched with jaws dropped as they zoomed in and around. One particular firework made a job of sparking over Slytherin students.

Flitwick was besides himself when he saw the fireworks. But what he didn't count on was one launching from his own chair. He toppled over and ended up the pie into Kettleburn's face. Dumbledore's jovial laughter echoed through the hall.

But Peter knew it was not over yet. James and Sirius, the terrific duo, activated the charm and several students popped up into red and gold Gryffindor colours. A gale of laughter emanated from the students who hadn't eaten the pudding, replaced by shocked gasps when they themselves met the same fate. So James hadn't stopped with the pudding. Figures. He watched his multi-coloured skin in fascination.

The cartwheelers buzzed around, their sparks stinging everyone. The fireworks then clashed together and merged to form one big giant bubble of light, when a lone golden beam collided with the merged fireworks and they burst in the air. Bright neon lighting wrote this simple message, a random idea that James had, backed by Sirius, corrected by Remus and accepted by Peter:

 _The Marauders wish you a spooky Halloween!_

The aftermath of their brilliant show was hilarious. Dumbledore announced (while still watching Peter) that it was an excellent example of spell casting, but said that those who wished to revert back must visit the Hospital Wing. The Slytherins were the worst off. Their hair stood up on edge because of the sparks and their face was near covered in soot. Many of them had murderous expressions on their faces, and Peter was glad that the adventure won't be known until next day. Remus, unusually cheerful, got into a game with James to see how much pumpkin juice they could chug in one go.

Peter joined the line at the Hospital Wing. Pomphrey nearly fainted at the number of students in the row. 'Really,' he heard her muttering, 'fireworks at Halloween!' She rudely shoved a potions bottle down another student's throat. 'The nerve!'

Most people in Gryffindor however, knew the truth, although they were secretly pleased with the prank. Frank Longbottom was one of the first to tell them so, while he passed by one cool afternoon in the corridors.

'Excellent,' he repeated as if dazed. 'Excellent.'

The Prewett twins were practically ecstatic. 'I have never seen a better show than that at Hogwarts.' Gideon whispered lowly into Peter's ears. 'Rope me in on one of those next time, eh? Half the school's thinking the Founders did it.'

He wasn't the only one of that opinion. Rumours had formed around the castle that the Marauders were a bunch of poltergeists. As Peeves was the only one who would know about sudden ghostly arrivals, most people could neither confirm nor deny that story. Sirius and James were among the people responsible for spreading around the rumour that the Marauders were part of the Headless Hunt, and that their exclusion angered them to prank the school. Quite what logic was involved in that was a mystery to both Peter and Remus, but they wisely kept silent.

By the end of the week, Cathy Abbotts would tell anyone who would listen that the prank was done by a group of Dark wizards. James and Sirius laughed outright at the notion, but only Peter could see Remus shrink ever so slightly. Honestly, he acted as if lycanthropy was his own fault.

Wow, he was starting to think like James.

Speaking of James, he still trailed after Lily like a lost puppy, but the girl wisely refused to acknowledge his presence. It was such a daily occurrence that Peter did not pay heed to it. Exactly 14 days (and six hours later), McGonagall learned that it was four first years who had done the job.

Put this way, they were all standing in her office, looking innocent as possible. Well, at least Peter was. Remus was despairing over the notion of a detention, and James and Sirius looked like they couldn't care less.

'Never,' she said, her crisp voice now taut as a string, 'In all my years teaching at Hogwarts, have I ever seen such an act of indiscipline like this.'

'Maybe you trained those students well, Professor?' James suggested, before shutting up at McGonagall's ferocious stare.

'I hope you realise the seriousness of what you've done, all of you.' She said, not sparing anyone from her disappointment. 'We've got owls from no less than a dozen parents questioning the safety of the school.'

'But the school is safe!' Sirius said impatiently. 'We didn't harm anyone!'

'Be that as it may, Mr. Black,' McGonagall said, losing every inch of her patience, 'acts like this will not remain unpunished. You shall all report to the trophy room for detention in four days. If any one of you are late,' her nostrils flared like an angry bull, 'you will have more than just scrubbing plaques.'

'At least it isn't writing lines, is it?' James said, trying to cheer Remus up on their way to History. 'My dad said they used to take students to the Forbidden forest. There's supposed to be all sorts of creatures in the woods.'

'You think dragons live there?' Sirius asked, looking excited at the possibility of meeting a 15-foot _flying_ lizard that breathes fire.

'No, they won't.' Peter said simply. 'If they were, we'd all be crisps by now.'

'Dumbledore would take care of it.' James dismissed.

'Well, he isn't here often, is he?' Sirius said right back. 'He's at the Ministry, the Wizengamot, the ICW-that man has more posts to his name than an owlery.' Sirius was right about one thing—Dumbledore wasn't as present at Hogwarts as he was. Peter hoped that the man found a horcrux, and soon.

History as always, was extremely boring. Peter knew almost of the names there, but he did need to read some of those books again. Remus and Lily were the only ones paying any sort of attention to Binns, but from where he sat, Peter thought Remus, with his palms closing his eyes was only listening. But out of the corner of his eyes he found writing appearing on his parchment.

'Hello, Peter.' It said. 'Binns boring you yet?'

Peter turned back, to see Sirius raising a hand in greeting. He bent down to his parchment and wrote on it.

'Nice idea. Where did you get the charms for it?'

'The books, Peter.' Sloppy handwriting said. 'Did you actually forget our ittle adventure?' That must be James.

'He needs a good knock to the head.' Sirius wrote. 'I saw that in some Muggle comedy.'

'You _all_ need a good knock upside the head.' Tidy handwriting wrote.

'Remus?' Sirius wrote shocked.

'No, I'm the Muggle queen.' He wrote exasperated. 'I'm trying to listen here—you could do the same.'

'All hail our queen Remus Lupin.' James wrote.

'Would you knight me with a sword, my lady?' Sirius wrote.

'More likely I'd cut you up with one if you aren't going to stop this.'

'Oh, vindictive, Remus. We just might become close friends yet.'

'I thought we already were.'

'You're just too slow James.'

'I'm going back to sleep.' Peter wrote, before falling asleep on his arm.

He was definitely liking it here.

* * *

And soon it was nearing the end of December. To his immense delight, Christmas had come with the promise of many, _many_ gifts. The snow, once just drifting, was now showered in generous amounts. Within the space of three days, there was snow deep enough to chill his knees.

From his parents he had got a box of Self Refilling ink quill and a book on hexes. It was easy enough to know which one was from whom. Sirius gave him a pranked box that made the fingers flobby, and James had given him a box of Honeydukes. Remus, ever the practical one, gifted him a pair of heating gloves. 'For the cold,' he explained needlessly. Peter thanked them all the same, and watched in silent anticipation at their reaction to his gifts.

James got a new watch, and Sirius opened the wrap to find a book 'Hairstyles for the Beautiful', which he promptly chucked at Peter. Remus got a magical device that checked the health of its owner. Peter figured it was a useful way of letting Remus keep tabs on his monthly issues. They weren't the only people he gifted. He went on a Hogwarts gifting spree.

Dumbledore got a pair of lime green socks, McGonagall got a subscription to Witches Weekly (judging by the sour look on her face, she was probably wishing the person behind it a nice accident), Flitwick got sugared pineapples, Slughorn got an antique pocket watch, and not to leave out his other friends—Snape got a potions kit (a far better one than he had originally bought) and Lily got a knitting set. Xeno found a rare Flutterby bud fit snugly in his ears.

'So I've been thinking,' Peter said loudly, as they were in the Hall eating breakfast. 'Why don't we have all the students down for a New Year's celebration?'

'Fat chance of the Slytherins ever setting foot inside a place we're at.' Sirius muttered.

'And any chance of a swotting Ravenclaw doing the same are equally low,' James said, stealing Sirius' food. This caused a bit of shoving between the two, until Remus cowered them both with a glare.

'The idea has merit, Pete,' Remus said slowly. 'But we would need more than just word to get them there. We need the Head students, or the prefects.'

'Then let's go talk to them.'

'WHAT?!' The three said, absolutely stunned. To even talk with a seventh year was anything short of landing the equivalent of a lifetime detention. Peter couldn't understand the stigma associated with that.

'Oh, come on. It's not as if they're going to eat us.'

'Who's not going to eat you, Peter?' Lily said out of nowhere. Damn her excellent hearing.

'Hello, Lily!' James said cockily. 'Peter's detention is to clean a manticore's cage.'

'A _manticore_?' She said, sounding horrified.

'James is winding you up.' Remus said, almost with a hint of amusement. 'We're just planning for the New Year's party.' They filled her in on the details, and she nodded her head.

'It's not a bad idea,' she said, 'The Girl's Dorm would love to join the celebrations.'

'Is it just them, or is it also you who likes the idea, Lilykins?' James said cheekily.

Sirius conked James off his head, then grandiosely bowing. 'There, fixed him up Lily. Who should we be speaking to?'

'That's splendid!' Amos Diggory said. Peter smiled sweetly while the older boy droned on about how he would do it. He had come alone, after wheedling and pleading with the gang to come up with him. _And they call themselves Gryffindors._ He thought, shaking his head.

'I was thinking about inviting all the students in the school.'

'All of them?' Amos asked shocked. 'I don't know a room that large to hold them in!'

'I do,' A voice said and they turned to see the Head Girl. 'How many people are in the school anyways?'

'A hundred, or more?' Amos guessed. 'Tough to say.'

The girl nodded. 'Well, in any case that should do it. Tell the students to get to the seventh floor.'

'You sure about that, Patil?' Amos asked doubtfully.

She smiled. 'Absolutely.'

The night of December 31st was met with excitement. The students, even the most reclusive and studious ones were dragged down. The news had even reached the ears of the teacher, and Dumbledore had arranged a special night for all students to go to the corridor of the seventh floor.

Students buzzed inside the new room. Some had no idea it existed. Gideon got down to business immediately, setting up a round of drinking games for those who had the stomach to bear it. A couple of muggleborn students had brought a few cassettes of music, and soon rock n' roll was blaring across the vast hall.

Peter was floored at the size of the room. It was vast, so vast that it was cavernous. Party lights were going in like some colourful kaleidoscope of pattern. In the center, a dance floor was marked. In the corner, drinks were served—Butterbeer for younger students, Firewhiskey for the older ones. Remus snagged them a table not far from the drinks area.

'Figured you would like to have a shot.' He said, carefully sitting down so as to not mess up his very expensive dress, lent by James. 'I had to wrestle a seventh year for it.'

'Was it a girl?'

This time, Sirius was the one to get conked, by the three of them at once. He grumbled a bit, before bouncing at the chance to get them some Butterbeer.

They had danced all night, and when the hours of the year dwindled down, they counted, all as one,

'TEN!'

'NINE!'

'EIGHT!'

'SEVEN!'

'SIX!'

'FIVE!'

'FOUR!'

'THREE!'

'TWO!'

'ONE!'

'HAPPY NEW YEAR!'

All in all, he was absolutely content. The only things he had to look forward to was the start of the new year. One half of a better life, for him and those around him.

 **A/N: I have no excuse for being so late in posting a chapter. Seriously, I was so busy it took me the better part of half an hour to fish this out. Oh yeah, and a prank. Sorry if it sounds a little off-I was trying to best imagine how four eleven year olds would have carried out a practical joke. Oh yeah, and I'm also working on another story, which is still unrefined. But for now, it's toodles, from your friendly neighbourhood**

 **K2SC**


	7. Chapter 7: First Year Ends

Sirius was bored.

Bored out of his mind. Bored of having to sit by the fireplace, and hold a book in his hands to study. He was not happy to be the only person in this room when everyone else was in the library. Biggest bunch of swots they were, but they were also his friends.

Friends. That word took off a lot of stress on the 11-year-old. For the brief time that he had stayed here, he could forget whatever happened at home. How his family elf poisoned him as part of a dumb ritual, how his grandfather made him kill his pet dog as a mark of valour, how his entirely insane family made him do stuff that made his skin crawl just by thinking about it…he stopped the mind trip as the end of poisonous toadstools came to an end. He didn't need the dark memories occupying whatever space he made up for storing things he was currently learning.

 _But I wasn't really learning now, am I_ , he thought as he sifted through the pages. There was no drive to know all this—nothing to separate perusal from a classic Binns lecture, and it was nothing short of agony to be the only Gryffindor first year to stay in the dorms when everyone else had gone outside to borrow books. 'Oh, screw this.' He said out loud, cursing his bullheadedness and dragging a couple of books behind him as the Fat Lady grumbled again at another departure disturbing her conversation with a drunk monk.

If there was a record made for lugging along a weight in the least amount of time, Sirius would have shattered it. He made like the wind to get to the library, and it seemed there were yet more people with the same idea he had. _Three weeks until the first test and they act like it's the bloody world ending._ He thought with a short snort, as the crowd seemed to swell at his arrival. He however, focussed on finding only his friends.

Someone bumped into him while holding a book so disproportionate it should not even be lifted. Sirius was shocked at the volume of it, so much that he hadn't properly acknowledged the stranger's apology. He pushed through the wall of chanting students, and found a table where James was sitting. And where James was, Lily is. And a couple of others he did not know, minding their own business.

' 'Lo, Sirius.' James said cheerfully, while writing down something that seemed suspiciously like a Valentine's card line. Peter offered him a friendly wave, while a busy Remus looked up from his books and smiled. 'Finally decided to get your head outta your arse?'

Apart from the scandalised coughing from Lily, and a smirk from Snape, almost everyone knew about the sort of relationship James and Sirius had. It was their way of roughhousing, a way of being familiar and friendly. 'Didn't need to,' Sirius said relaxed while drawing up a chair, 'Seeing you still have yours inside.'

'Can we just focus on _studying_?' Lily said heatedly, somehow rapidly poring through books like her life depended on it.

'Sure, Evans.' James said civilly, and that gave Sirius pause. Did James really behave as if he didn't exist right now? 'Sirius, help an old friend with Charms, will ya?'

'Swap you for Defense.' Sirius said in return. James scratched his chin.

'Actually, my Defence is pretty shoddy.' James replied. 'I'll swap you for Transfiguration, and Remus can swap you for History, seeing as you know stuff without slugging through Binns talking.'

'This isn't a Chocolate Frog card! You can't just,' she snapped her fingers, 'swap subjects to learn!'

'Actually, that might work.' Peter, their reliable thinker said. 'After all, the best way to learn is with one's strengths and weaknesses.' Nobody could argue with that reasoning. 'Snape, who do you want to swap with for Potions?'

'Lupin.' He said succinctly. Peter nodded.

'Then Remus might be able to swap Arithmancy with Lily, yes?' The pudgy boy said, to general agreement.

'Yeah, I might.' Remus said. For a second, he could see a flash of pain go across the sandy haired boy, before it was replaced by a polite, albeit controlled smile. Sirius knew then, that there was more to the matter than what met the eye. He did as Snape rigidly instructed, all the while keeping an eye on Remus, who had irregular spasms run through his hands.

'Remus, you okay?' He asked, looking at the boy try to write notes steadily as his hands shook.

'I'm fine.' He said hurriedly, almost like he was snapping at him. Sirius prepared himself for a fight, before Peter interjected.

'You heard him, Sirius. It's the nerves around this time, thinking about the questions and all that.' He said. Sirius narrowed his eyes.

'I'm not blind, Pete. That is not nerves, and you don't need to defend Remus every time he does something.'

'He doesn't need to.' Remus growled, his fist banging the table loudly. 'And if you can't stop being nosy, either shut up and study or leave!'

'Woah, Remus!' James said, holding Sirius back. 'That's a bit too much, isn't it?'

'It's fine.' Sirius said coolly, looking at Remus, whose eyes looked more feral by the minute. 'I understand where he's coming from.'

'And the idiot clearly overreacts.' Snape remarked, eyes glinting back and forth between the two opposing parties. 'I have to wonder what you see in him, Potter.'

'You're going to make me hit you, Snape?' Sirius asked, hand itching to grasp the greasy git's collar. Snape stared at him with the same expression.

'By all means.' He said, raising his arms up and Sirius reached across the table, only to be stopped by Remus and James. Sirius yanked James' hand off his shirt and walked off from the library.

 _How dare they?_ He thought furiously, clenching his fist and releasing them in an endless cycle. _Nosy, am I? Bloody buggering swot_ , he thought in anger. He didn't know where he was running, but he heard a voice calling after him. He walked ahead, steadily ignoring the words.

'Sirius, are you _mental_?' James said, his voice echoing invisibly in Sirius' mind. 'Two minutes into a study session and you act like everyone's done something wrong!'

'Well, I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG EITHER!' Sirius roared, throwing his books down on the floor. 'I didn't ask to be Sorted to a House where my family would rather kill me than say anything else, I didn't ask to be spit on, rolled over and generally screwed over by everyone!'

'Mate, you're acting really weird lately,' James said carefully, and Sirius hated it when he did that. It meant James did not trust his friend's set of mind, and was more distant. 'Are you having—I dunno, problems?'

Sirius stared at the boy in front of him. 'Oh, have you been living under a rock lately, Potter? Three weeks of my life here has been wizarding soap drama material, and you ask if _I_ have problems?'

'No!' James denied quickly. 'It's just that you seem to blow up for no sudden reason, and I thought,' he faltered, 'Well—' He suddenly gained colour in his cheeks.

'Spit it out.' Sirius said. 'If you think this is about that girl I winked at—'

'Not just the girl.' James let out a deep breath. 'Sirius, are you, well, having personal problems?'

'What do you mean personal problems?' Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

'Like, I dunno,' James said in a rush, 'Having sudden mood swings, irrational fears, sitting in one place all the time—'

'Holy Merlin,' Sirius breathed out, stunned. 'You think I'm having what _girls_ have once a while?' He was caught between strangling James and cursing him.

'You certainly seem to act like it.' James said cheekily.

The mood suddenly changed. The fog of apprehension lifted. The jab wasn't an insult, it seemed funny. Something that could bring a smile. In the case of Sirius, a full blown laughter gale. James joined in when he realised Sirius wasn't going to sock him for that joke. They held each other from falling down, and Sirius was sure that tears of amusement were forming about now. 'If you weren't my best friend already, you'd be in the Hospital Wing by now.'

'I know.' James said.

'And you went ahead with that banter?' Sirius asked.

'You're my friend.' James said seriously. 'If I wasn't going to do it, Peter was.'

Sirius winced in the remembrance of what he caused. 'Speaking of our peacemaker, is he dabbing Lupin's tears away?'

'Sirius.' James admonished, but half-heartedly. 'Stop being a prick and enjoy the year with us.'

'How can I?'

James froze. 'Don't put me on the spot like that!' He said. 'Do you know how difficult it is to come up with something sounding wise and utterly meaningless?'

'I'll try not to.' Sirius said, feeling like he downed a good morsel of food down. He didn't know why, but food was his feel-good measure of the day, and it stuck with him. 'Lord, I can't seem to stop apologising. First Snape, now Lupin—if you're up next,' Sirius blinked. 'You know what? If you guys think I'm a snobbish prat that takes off at anything, you can hit me because you're right.'

James rubbed his hands. 'I believe that is free permission to serve one Sirius Black the old one-two.' The glee was practically oozing from his voice.

'Just not now though.' Sirius said tired. He rubbed his eyebrows, pinching his nose to release the tension. 'Any idea where Lupin and Parker pranced off to?'

'Hey, I'm the one who does the prancing in this side of the castle!' James said indignantly, but stopped at the dry look Sirius gave him. 'Okay, I think it's the dungeons, but I'm not sure.'

'You're not sure.' Sirius deadpanned, thinking back to when Remus had wandered off without them. It always was once a month, and it always was around some system. But what? 'Let's search the castle.'

'I already have.' James declared. 'And they aren't there. They aren't anywhere.'

'You're ruddy fast, you know that James? It won't hurt to check a second time!'

'Let's just go.' James motioned impatiently, before they bounded off in search of their two missing members.

They turned the castle upside down—well, not really—but they were sure there was not an inch of space where their two friends could have been. By this time, it was nearing evening, and as such, it was getting darker and more difficult to see clearly. Now done with the castle, they took to searching the grounds. 'Hang on,' Sirius said, holding a hand to stop James. A low sound echoed in the wind. 'Did you hear that?'

'Is that someone whistling?' James perked up, ears alert. Sirius nodded, still curious about the source.

'It might be the wind, or some creature.'

'I'd like it if it was a creature.' James remarked, stepping up over the grass. 'Something like a Pygmy Puff.'

'Knowing our luck, it's probably going to be—' His foot fell loose and he flailed as the ground rushed up to his head. He should have been slammed into the mud, but there was a hollow path and darkness in his eyes. His hands hit solid ground and his elbows stung in the pain. 'Aargh!'

'Sirius, you okay?' James said, but his voice sounded far off, like at the end of a tunnel. 'Hold on, I'm coming through.' Sirius nursed his shaken arms and knees before shakily standing up. The sound of rocks falling off came up behind him, and he turned to see James rubbing a possibly sore bum. 'Damn, that hurts.'

'Whatever.' Sirius said, ears ringing from the impact. ' _Lumos._ ' Wand light shone across the dug path. 'What is this place?'

James joined him in casting the same spell, and his hazel eyes looked deep in thought. 'A secret room full of treasure?'

'Oi smartass, if it was a treasure containing room, there would be gold up until our eyes.'

'Right.' James agreed, looking around to see what it was. 'It might be an escape tunnel. My grandpa told me stories of the old days when they sneaked out using these things.' He walked up to the solid edge of the tunnel and tapped a knuckle on it. 'Hear that sound? It means the structure won't cave in on us.'

'That's reassuring.' Sirius remarked, holding the wand above his head. 'I see some wood.' That line brought a snicker from both boys.

'This far below?' James was puzzled, as he looked at the same spot Sirius was too. 'Couldn't be—wow, it is! Did someone build a house underground?'

'That's wicked.' Sirius grinned, imagining a similar hideout, only with more fun and less falling down. 'How come no one talks about this place?'

'Maybe we discovered it first?' James said doubtfully. 'Let's just see what is there.'

They tread far carefully than they ever have, taking special care not to bruise up any part of their body due to a mishap. The end of the tunnel led into a rotting, dilapidated wooden wall, and that opened up into an old room. Quite devoid of treasure, fun or anything likeable to Sirius. James was of the same opinion.

'This is stupid.' James said.

'I agree.' Sirius said.

'And your stomach growls like a hungry dog.'

'I ate a lot today!' Sirius said, defending himself. 'And I know how my tummy works, thank you very much.' There was a brief guttural noise that neither he nor James were fond of.

'My stomach didn't growl.' Sirius said rapidly.

'We have bigger problems than an empty belly.' James said, his voice shaking. The light off of both their wands lit up the only dark spot in the room, a spot that belonged to cold, hungry yellow eyes, and teeth drooling with saliva. The wolf snarled before launching itself at Sirius.

* * *

Peter knew wandering off into the Forbidden Forest was a bad idea. Scratch that, it still is a bad idea.

He hadn't known where Remus had even romped off to. If he was right, Moony spent time in the Shrieking Shack, and now that the werewolf was unleashed, there was no way of knowing where it would be. Peter stopped in his tracks at the horrifying thought of someone getting bitten. What would Remus think when he knew that a person was bitten because of unsupervised wandering? He'd be expelled!

He tried to find Hagrid, but the gameskeeper was very casual about helping Peter. It probably did not help that he didn't mention a werewolf running about, because Peter had no idea if Dumbledore kept Hagrid in the know. Thinking about the friendly man's loose lips, the headmaster might not have.

There were a couple of paw prints, but they were much too large and wide to be that of a werewolf. This, in Peter's opinion, didn't help his already dwindling hopes of making it out of this forest alive. But if he was to know where Remus was, he needed a clue. A howl in the distance, maybe, or a rustling of the tree leaves.

Wait, that just happened…

Peter stood stock still, only his rapid breathing and shaking wand the only sounds in the lonely, forbidding forest. He had heard a noise, a sound unlike anything a creature could make. It wasn't a growl, it wasn't a neigh, it wasn't even a grunt. It was an odd rhythm, a pair of clicking noises set off at sudden beats. Yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, and some dumb logic in Peter's brain kept him from bolting off, perhaps to stop the creature's advances. He saw hundreds of yellow eyes bearing down on him, and he realized that they were all a herd of terrifying monsters. The sound they make sounded unearthly in the light. _Click_ click. Click _click_. _Click_ click _._

Peter nearly burst out in tears. There was no way he could survive an attack of massive monsters in this night. He didn't know what they looked like, had no idea how to fend them off or even run faster than these things. The clicking noises grew closer and closer. Peter let out a frightened whimper.

'It is a youngling.' A deep voice rumbled. Just at this moment, the moonlight struck through the dense foliage of the forest. It glimmered in odd patterns, over lumps pebble sized and Muggle car sized. It was only a few seconds later that Peter realized the lumps he was facing were actually giant spiders. Why did it have to be spiders? The clicking hushed as the spiders surrounding him turned upwards to look behind Peter's back. A low whoosh behind him was the only sign something was breathing hard on his body. Peter turned, and let out a loud yell.

It was a spider larger than all the ones in the lot. Its eyes were as milky as they were yellow, and its pincers were huge. Its mouth could probably have swallowed Peter whole, and it looked over Peter as if he was a particularly tasty snack. 'Speak, human youngling.'

Peter took great effort to make talk. 'W-Who a-are y-you?' He blurted out. The spider drew itself to its full height.

'I am Aragog, King of the Acromantula. Who are _you_ and why have you wandered into these woods by yourself?' He said. 'I find it entertaining when I meet sentient prey, especially humans.' Oh great, a talking Acromantula. Just what the Healer ordered.

'My name is Peter Parker, and I am searching for a friend.' Peter gulped. 'I just want to find him.'

'A friend.' Aragog repeated, and if he was human, that would be mocking. 'Well, Peter Parker, you have broken the laws of deportment between your kind and ours.' He leaned in closer. 'Any last words?'

'That will be enough, Aragog.' Another voice spoke behind them, softer and regal. It was another spider, and it sounded feminine.

'Mosag.' Aragog said, as warmly as an eight-foot behemoth could. 'Why must you interfere where judgement is passed?'

'Judgement?' The female spider repeated. 'You are sentencing a human child to death, beloved. We do not harm unicorn foal—should we not also do the same to humans?'

Aragog locked eyes with his—wife? Peter didn't know if marriage even existed between these creatures. 'Are you undermining my decision, Mosag?'

Mosag replied, 'I am educating you, husband. There is a marked difference between a trial and a slaughter, and I certainly see it as the latter.' She turned those scary eyes on Peter. 'Now child, what were you doing?'

'I was searching for my friend.' Peter said, eyes darting between the two giant things. 'Hagrid said-'

'You know Hagrid, Peter the Parker?' Aragog asked, in a tone of surprise.

'Yeah,' Peter said, wondering on the ludicrousness of talking with an Acromantula. 'My friends and I know him.'

Aragog hummed in thought. 'It is better then, that I leave you alive. Hagrid would not like it if I was to eat one of his friends.'

'Wait, you know Hagrid?' Peter said surprised. He knew Hagrid made friends with all manners of beasts, but to get cuddly with an Acromantula was something delightfully crazy and something that only the gentle giant could do.

Aragog clicked his pincers ominously. 'Of course I do!' He said, raising voice for the first time in the conversation. 'How can I not, when he was chased away from studying there?'

'Chased away?' Peter parroted, mind racing. When did Hagrid ever get expelled? Was it because of his tendency to not know his own strengths and other students' weaknesses? Peter tried to picture the man as a student wearing the Hogwarts uniform, only it seemed completely ridiculous, like a Dumbledore with a dark beard or a McGonagall without glasses. It just doesn't happen.

'It is not my tale to tell, Peter the Parker.' Aragog said solemnly. 'All you need to know is that he was sent away because of me.'

'I won't ask any more.' Peter replied, curiosity burning but cautious about taking chances with a predator like that. 'But how will I find my friend?'

'He is the cursed wolf, is he not?' Mosag said suddenly. 'Even the tainted smell carries over to our senses, but for your truthfulness I will help you Peter Parker.' She tapped one of her legs on the ground twice and a trail of little insects creeped out. 'You can follow my brood here to the edge of the forest. They will lead you to your friend.'

'I can't thank you enough.' Peter gushed, relieved at the end of the encounter. 'All of you.' He stepped back on crunching leaves when Aragog called after him.

'If you ever set foot again in our nest, Mosag will not save you, human Parker. Be warned.'

Peter nodded with a resigned sigh, mentally reminding himself to slap his own face when this was all over and done with.

* * *

James liked a lot of things.

He liked running, swimming, heck—he even learned Muggle croquet just to occupy his mind and lose to grandma.

But now, looking back on a lot of those stuff, James could say that he definitely had not thought that facing a tall wolf was worth any of that activity. He watched in horror as the wolf knocked Sirius over into a rusty sofa. It raised its teeth, ready to cut at his friend's throat—

' _Flipendo_!' He yelled, and the spell threw the wolf off its feet. It shattered the window as it fell, and flecks of blood splattered onto the floor. Sirius woozily rose, but not before shrieking in horror as the wolf shook itself from pain and leaped at James. It was so quick, and so unexpected, that even when James ducked underneath it, he was hit by the beast's legs. 'Ow.' He verbally complained, tossed over to one side. Sirius was on his feet and doing something that James could only gape at.

The first vase hit the wolf's nose and it yelped in surprise. The sound was so weak that James would have almost thought it to be harmless. Except this was from a bloodthirsty creature that wouldn't give a second thought to maim or injure. Sirius stood there, and (even more surprisingly) with his wand in his pockets. His left arm held a pile of ceramic items while his right arm chucked them like a Frisbee. 'Get going!' He said, and James didn't even need a second warning to run. The sound of plates breaking alerted him, and a few seconds later, Sirius joined him, his tired breath mingling with the wolf's snarls.

'This—wasn't—', James huffed, his legs feeling like iron. 'What—I—had—in—mind!' The wolf swiped at Sirius, but the boy nimbly dodged the blow. Now it seemed to be at the end of the tunnel, and James felt that there was no way out. This was it, they were done for, if only—

' _Wingardium Leviosa_!' a familiar voice said, and James felt his body floating in midair. He hovered above the hole in the ground while Sirius was flailing his arms. James looked down to see a very rundown Peter holding them up. For a second, their eyes met and then the spell broke.

'Run!' Peter shouted, and like an athlete in a footrace, James took off without the slightest hint of hesitation. One part of him wanted to go back and drag Peter along, but his mind told him that would mean putting all three of them in danger. They were almost near the wooden bridge connecting to the castle, but James could not hear Peter or the wolf. They took to chat while trotting at a slower pace.

'What was Peter trying to do?' Sirius said in anxiety. 'And we left him to face that thing!'

'It was the only way, Sirius.' The wooden planks thudded with their footsteps.

'Sod off, Potter.' Sirius snapped lost in thought and fright. 'We need to get a teacher, and fast.'

The mournful howl of the wolf could be heard behind them. James didn't even pause to turn back and watch it anymore.

* * *

'What were you thinking?'

There was no harsh tone in his voice, no overbearing, but Peter couldn't help but feel shame filling inside him as Dumbledore said those words. Remus was fresh from the Hospital Wing, bandaged, bruised and refusing to look at anything except the ground. Sirius and James weren't exactly their usual selves in the Headmaster's office.

'I had hoped that your youthful exuberance would be countered by some caution, James.' Dumbledore said, and James shuffled with no excuse to give. 'I might even forgive Sirius if he had not stumbled into the old shack.' He looked at them all, ancient and wizen. 'Do you understand the repercussions of what would have passed? Your friend would be expelled from Hogwarts, and your lives, more importantly, could have been in danger.'

Owen Fitzgerald had found them all, and it was just in time too. An hour later and they could all be exhausted enough for the werewolf to tear them apart. Luckily, America didn't have as much as a negative stigma towards werewolves as England did, so their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher kept the information secret.

'I take full responsibility, Headmaster.' Remus said solemnly, looking like all the energy was sapped out of his being. 'They never should have been anywhere near me.'

'You cannot blame yourself, Remus,' Dumbledore said, some of the disappointment toning down at the boy's words. 'But know this all of you,' he leaned over his table, 'this cannot happen a second time. And what has transpired this night, must remain a secret until your graduation. Do you understand?'

'Yes, professor.' They all chorused, and Dumbledore offered them a grim smile.

'Peter, James, Sirius,' He sighed. 'I cannot stress enough the importance of your friend's condition being kept a secret. If word gets out, it is not only Mr. Lupin who deals with the fallout.'

'We will keep hush.' James said, his words a tad remorseful.

'Promise.' Sirius added.

'And no one would be none the wiser.' Peter finished. Dumbledore rose from the chair and moved to the cupboards. He gently touched a sliver instrument that hovered in the air before emitting a puff of smoke.

'I had told this to Remus once, and I find myself repeating it again,' Dumbledore said softly, 'a burden shared, is often a burden lessened. I will let you all go now,' James did his best to cheer silently. 'But not before handing in your detentions. Now, as you all know, your punishment with Professor McGonagall is upstanding, and as such, it will now be a biweekly punishment, instead of the tasks handed once a week. Oh, and Gryffindor will be losing a 100 points for your nightly escape.'

'Bollocks.' Sirius muttered.

'I urge you to talk among yourselves on how best to protect your friend's troubles.' Dumbledore continued, as if he didn't hear Sirius. 'It will strengthen your relationships, and undoubtedly you'll learn something new in the process.' His familiar smile returned. 'Now off you go, and be good!'

The stone gargoyles slammed shut after them. 'Be good?' James repeated incredulously. 'That couldn't have been as weird as it got!'

'I agree.' Sirius said, looking at Remus. 'But mate, why didn't you tell us the first chance you got?'

Remus didn't so much as speak a word. He looked very tired, worn out, and maybe a little depressed. James walked up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

'Remus,' James said, with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face, 'We need to talk.'

They met at the same old abandoned classroom that Snape and Lily had joined them on to learn Occlumency. It seemed such a long time ago, Peter thought, that it all seemed so innocent and carefree. Sirius and James sat on the rickety floor, and gestured to Peter, who cleared his throat.

'Right, before you guys blow off on a tangent,' He started. 'I wanted you to know that I knew Remus was a werewolf way before this happened.'

'What?' Remus said in shock, knees wobbling.

'And you didn't tell us?' Sirius and James babbled without chorusing.

'And I don't care.' Peter said, feeling bolder than he should have been at that moment. 'I don't care that Remus is a werewolf, and that's because he's my friend. He could turn into a giant flying monkey and I'd still feel the same.'

'I think giant flying monkey sounds way cooler.' Sirius shrugged lazily.

' "Cooler" '? James asked in confusion.

'Muggle term.' Sirius cleared up.

'Oh.' James replied.

'This is serious!' Remus said agitated. 'I'm a danger to everyone in this school.'

'Once a month.' James countered. 'And even then it was just towards the three of us, and it was awesome!'

Peter shook his head, bemused about a near fatal encounter being awesome. 'Remus, apart from the Library, I don't think you could hurt a fly in the castle, werewolf or otherwise. We could help you.'

But the boy was adamant. 'I'm not risking your lives just to keep my lycanthropy secret.'

'Lyca what?' Sirius said, not understanding. Peter mouthed, _Furry condition_ , and Sirius nodded in understanding.

'There's always a will when there's a way.' James said saintly, sidestepping the ignorance of Sirius. 'Maybe the library has something about it, and we could help in.'

'Now that,' Sirius clapped his thighs, 'that's my sort of plan. Go in, get the books, learn them all.'

'Even if you hardly flip through the covers, Sirius?' Remus suggested sneakily, for the first time.

Quiet chuckles from the three of them caused Sirius to redden in embarrassment. 'Okay, I get it.' More sniggers. 'You can stop laughing now.' Silent clutches of the stomach. 'Would you lot shut it?'

Although Remus wanted them to start the project after the first year exams, it didn't prevent Sirius and James from maybe spending a surprising amount of time in the library, a fact that made them the target of Irma Pince's suspicious glares. Now the snow had receded, and instead the sun shone perhaps a bit too brightly when they walked into their Charms examination. James was regaling Sirius with tales of some of their first lessons, where James had tickled Sirius with a feather.

The hallway was as immaculately ordered as Peter remembered it. Rows and rows of individual desks with a deceptively comfortable chair paired, was the seat of all writing. 'Students, please hand over your wands to me!' Flitwick said, still looking cheerful despite giving them a warning. They all shuffled over in line to do the same, before taking a sheet of parchment placed in a pile on the desk. There was no particular order for seating arrangements, so Peter found himself sitting across Remus, and James and Sirius favoured the back end of the room.

'Your examination will start in a few minutes.' Flitwick informed them. 'The question papers will now be handed to you. Remember—no student will copy and or use unfair means to secure the answers.' Like leaves falling, the papers gently glided and one found its way onto Peter's desk. He read the first question, and smiled. _Describe the effect of the charm used to lift objects into air. List two uses for this spell._ He dipped his quill in ink and started writing.

'So it really was about Emeric the Evil, but the question doesn't really say much more does it?' Lily said, shifting her eyes all over their last exam's question paper that was done about a week ago. Sirius palmed his face, voice muffled by skin.

'Evans, you really are going to make my ears bleed.' He sighed. 'Can't you just let it all go, and be a proper student looking forward to the feast?'

'Well, I'm not a hog like you.' Lily replied waspishly.

'I personally fancy myself as a dog, m'lady.' Sirius waggled his eyebrows.

'Atleast she's warming up to Sirius.' Remus whispered, to Peter and Snape. The sallow faced boy sneered.

'I don't look forward to the year ending at all.' He said, sitting besides the Gryffindors in a rare show of House disregard. 'Potter might though—his family must practically fall on his feet to make him happy.'

'Severus, don't be like that.' Peter pacified, feeling more relaxed than he ever had this year. _Six more to go…and to think I've been more worried about exams than Voldemort_ , he thought amused, but shifted his attention to James, who was now chatting up Frank Longbottom and Malcolm McGonagall, both of whom seemed happy to fill in on Quidditch tips. A knowing smile crept over the spectacled boy's face as he waved at Peter.

Peter swept his gaze over the rest of the hall. The staff table was as attended as ever, and even Dumbledore had decided to break the drought of absence by robes so brightly coloured that Professor Flitwick practically avoided looking at the headmaster. He spotted Xeno at the end of the Ravenclaw table, shoving carrots into another disgruntled student's food, and the Prewett twins ribbing each other off.

'Ahem,' Dumbledore said, standing up for the last speech of the year. 'It is said that all good things must come to an end, and this year certainly has been a cauldron of surprises. We've seen friendships strengthen and break up all in the same mould, but more importantly, the knowledge that unity is of utmost importance in these times. And now,' he raised his hands dramatically, 'Pip pip!' And clapped. 'Off you go now, but return for the next term!'

The train ride was relatively quiet. Although James and Sirius did their best to wreak havoc, Remus wisely brought along Lily to put a stop to anything James might do. And what James did not do, Sirius wouldn't. He was so caught up in watching the landscape that he didn't notice Snape tapping him on the shoulders. 'You dropped this.' He said, behaving rather civilly out of all the Marauders to him. Peter nodded warily before examining the wad of paper.

It was blank, and a little worse for wear, but something tingled Peter's senses. An unused bit of paper, falling off his trunk and Snape giving it to him? He tapped his wand on it twice, and writing sprang out. Peter would have gasped, but he didn't want to alert anyone of what he was reading.

 _PP,_

 _The piece is found. I will find a way to bring it safely. Be careful. The hunt is afoot._

 _P.S. Shall I visit you personally?_

It didn't take two guesses as to who the sender was, but Peter felt a surge of excitement. Work was going ahead, and they were one step closer to averting a war. He laughed louder than anybody when Lily hexed James, but no one noticed as much. He excused himself to the bathroom, tore up the note and for good measure, burned it.

The train stopped a long time back, but Peter still didn't feel like the year had come to an end. Quite frankly, he was of the opinion that at any moment, a certain poltergeist would pop out of the compartment and conk him. The steam still rolled along the ground but he was now stepping out of it, and not into it. It was a weird moment when you know a wild ride ends.

His parents were at the forefront of his vision, both with beaming smiles. 'How are you doing?' His dad said, ruffling his hair in the way Peter had now recognised to be parental and more importantly, for _him_. His mother hugged him tightly, and Peter felt like he never wanted it to stop.

'What's this about running around the castle grounds?' His mother said, severely but not harshly. 'Peter, you told us that you'd not do such silly things!'

'Great work,' Richard started, but faltered when Catherine glared at him, 'I mean, you should be properly ashamed! If you wanted to roam around Hogwarts, all you had to do was ask me…' Catherine playfully swatted him, and he changed his tone. 'So, how was the year?'

Peter turned left, towards the hundreds of students reuniting with their parents. He spotted James tackled by a couple looking strikingly like the boy. He spotted Remus being kissed on the forehead by a woman who must have been his mother. He turned right and spotted Lily glaring at her sibling, amidst her parents looking very amused. He spotted Sirius grouchily being led away by a thick cloaked man, and Snape walking in tandem with a hook nosed woman. And the answer easily sprang out, from thought to words.

'Promising.'

 **A/N: So I bet ya didn't expect a chapter from me, huh? I didn't either...**

 **Before I say anything else, let me just explain why I was unable to do just about anything other than make you wait this long. I was applying for uni, and as things went, it took the better of two months to finish it all up. But then life got in the way, and it was a while before I got around to thinking, 'Oh shoot I completely forgot to write a new chapter!' But yeah, that happened.**

 **Well, this chapter didn't really strike out to me as a flowing storyline. I'm just glad to get the first year out of the way and hopefully build up second year like I intend to. As always, do review (my writing's also a bit rusty after all this time) and until a (hopefully quicker) next time,**

K2SC


	8. Chapter 8: A Night's Escapade

Thud. Thud. _THUD._

Peter couldn't see, or he must have blind. Darkness was all around him, twisting and turning. Grey smoke spiralling outwards, crisscrossing into eerily intricate patterns. He looked down and saw his hands were muddied. He heard the thumping again, but this time, it sounded more rhythmic, pulsing…

Dark.

There was nowhere else to look. Peter was moving, but he had no legs. The noise grew louder, and it was then he realised that it was a beat, a heartbeat. And it was quickening, picking up pace. A green skull in the air, and whispering in the breeze. He felt something flow down his hands, and saw that it was a snake, but the snake was now a trail of blood and his entire arm was bloody.

Red burning eyes stared out of the darkness, and a cold, high pitched laugh rang in his ears.

 _THUD THUD!_

Peter opened his eyes quickly, scrambling for his wand. It was near evening, and the room was lit in soft candle light as he realised he was in Parker Lot, and not some scary place. He let out a long, drawn sigh of relief.

He had been having these nightmares a lot more often as the holidays were coming to a close. Whatever they were, they were always disjointed and sudden. Given no time to react in these imaginary prisons, Peter had his sleep spoilt almost always. If he could describe the feeling, it would be as if he was feeling every one of his years of existence—before and after purgatory.

The windows tapped again. Irritated and thinking irrationally, Peter ripped the curtains away and pointed his wand at whatever was on the other side of the glass.

'Hoot?' Said the confused owl, its voice muffled by the thick windowpane. Peter pinched his brow and shook his head, before opening the latch. The owl fluttered in onto his homework parchment, and softly hooted again. Peter tossed a biscuit and a Knut to the owl, which gobbled up one and held onto the other. The rolled-up letter was actually a bunch of parchments bundled together. _This must have been James' idea_ , he thought opening the letter. All three of them were from his friends, and the first one was from James.

 _Hi Peter!_

 _You'd have noticed by now that it's a collection of our letters. Sirius couldn't really send one now, seeing he's being locked up in his own room. I went to his house, got his letter as well the other day when my parents had a social party or something, and Sirius looked rabid. Yeah, like a dog. Personally, I think his entire family's batty (and his mum's a hag but don't tell him I said that)—_

Privately, Peter knew that Sirius shared the same opinion as James did, and would heartily agree. Then they would both curse Walburga Black. He read through the rest of the letter.

 _And Remus didn't buy an owl in the first place (he told me that the school's owls were enough). I'm really feeling bored, and playing with the house elf isn't the same as talking with all of you. I can't wait for second year—we have Quidditch tryouts! You know that I'll get a spot in the team, and that I'd like to be Chaser, but Seeker won't be as bad either…_

And the famed ego of James Potter. While it was endearing to Peter, he knew that some people took it the wrong way: Snape and Lily being prime examples of that.

 _I snagged a book on Animagi, and a couple of potions. I'd tell Remus that we're getting ready for the project, but I sent my last owl to Majorca. Keep living the dream!_

 _Pranks and worse wishes,_

 _Charming James_

Peter snorted. That sounded like James alright. He turned his attention to the green tinged paper, that seemed to be addressed from Sirius. It read—

 _Peter Parker!_

 _I'm going nothing short of insane here. Sorry if that made this letter seem less cool, but that's what's happening. Mum is psychotic, and Kreacher being the blasted elf he is, is kissing up her knickers to follow her orders._

Peter gagged having a mental image of that.

 _The other day I was talking to my brother Regulus and he seems to be the only sane one here besides me and Uncle Alphard. But he's a bit of a suckup, so Mum might convince him Slytherin is better. And he'd follow her without question, and it makes me hate her even more. I absolutely_ _ **hate**_ _her. She's getting worse every day. And yeah, the green tinged paper is also her fault. Apparently, the Blacks think green is Slytherin and haven't heard of overkill yet._

Peter knew exactly what Regulus would go through, and bowed his head with a heavy heart. The last line made him smile—it was so cutting and dark that only Sirius could say it.

 _I know James would look forward to Quidditch, and I am too but I'd be even gladder (that's a word, right?) to leave Grimmauld Place. I never even liked my home in the first place. I know I won't really inherit this house (Gryffindor, but who cares?), but I'd rather burn it to the ground than live in it. Anyway, have fun and get onto pranking Snivellus!_

 _Cheers,_

 _Sexy Sirius_

Peter had a small chuckle at the end, even though he knew Sirius was going through hell. If James was only going to house Sirius after fifth year, Peter wanted to bring the Black heir here sooner. He turned to the last letter, whose handwriting wasn't tidy but very ordered.

 _Dear Peter,_

 _I was informed that the rest of the Marauders are on the Animagi project. Interestingly enough, the word 'maraud' is French, suggesting pillage and plunder. Wonder why James and Sirius thought it would be an appropriate name for a pranking group…never mind, I'm just rambling here—_

Peter grinned at the formality in Remus' letter. Even in ink, he seemed to be the knowledgeable and affable man he would grow up to be.

 _Do be careful with it. I read up on the subject and there are so many instances where it went wrong badly. Some Animagi transformations ended up grotesque, or worse. I'd hate it if anything happened to my friends, and just for a werewolf transformation._

'No Remus, don't hate yourself,' Peter muttered rolling his eyes. Did he not get the fact that all three of them cared?

 _But enough of my side of things; how are you? I know you're with your parents and a house elf (those pancakes were great too!) but what's going on there? My lycanthropy cycle is on an end, so it will be a long gap until the next one at Hogwarts._

 _Since I'm just curious, did you see the article about a Damocles Belby? They say he invented a potion to help werewolves, but I can't find anything else about it. Let me know if you get something about that, but enjoy the holidays first!_

 _Love,_

 _Remus Lupin._

 _P.S. I'm going to go on a limb here and ask you something—have Sirius and James really signed their letters with ludicrous adjectives?_

'Yes Remus they did.' Peter replied, snickering after he did so. It was good reading their letters, like a sudden dose of Pep-Me-Up potion as the nightmares faded away. He wrote a few sentences each, asking them how their holidays went, before asking them all what their next plan of action should be. He folded up the parchment before tying it on the owl's legs. It flew away, leaving Peter with a sense of satisfaction. And then his stomach growled.

'Really?' Peter mumbled, feeling annoyed at having to walk downstairs for a snack. He dragged his leg along and decided to raid the cupboards. Knowing his parents, they probably left the lights on just in case. He rummaged through the cupboard and found a jar of cookies. _Perfect_ , Peter thought, holding the slightly loose jar tentatively. It was while nibbling at one particular chocolate chip special that he heard another thump.

'Again?' He groaned out loud, moving closer to the source of noise. He removed the curtains and blinked in surprise. A golden bird with enormous red trimmed wings flapping in mid-air, was staring at him. It wasn't even perched on the windowsill, and any sound that it made could not be heard on Peter's side. He realised what type of bird it was once he peered with more attention.

'You're a phoenix, right?' He said, edging closer until only glass separated him and the phoenix. It raised its beak and made a sound, which Peter thought he must have missed. 'Wait, you didn't come here by accident, did you?'

The bird shook its head. Peter mentally filed a list of strange things birds shouldn't do, and acting human-like was _definitely_ one of them. 'You're Dumbledore's?' He asked, to which the bird pecked the glass in a manner of accepting.

Footsteps thudded, and it seemed to come from the stairs. Peter did not want to be caught by his parents while talking with a phoenix—scratch that, he didn't want to be caught wandering out of bed. That would have been fun at Hogwarts but here, it was prelude to torture. 'And I told you Richard the grass is cut funny—' Catherine said, waving her hands impatiently while her fur slippers padded down the steps.

'Yes dear, I'll look into it—' Richard spoke, before both of them looked at Peter, who wisely shut the curtains off in the blink of an eye. 'Hallo there! What's up at this time of the hour?' His father greeted.

'Nothing.' Peter said a little quickly. 'Just felt hungry, is all.'

'You should have eaten more at dinner then.' Catherine said disapprovingly. 'Really, eating at odd hours is very unhealthy Peter. I'm surprised you haven't gotten along a little sideways with the number of snacks you have.' She spotted the open jar of cookies. 'Did you just eat all my specially baked chocolate chip cookies?'

'Uh, not all of them.' Peter said, bewildered that his mother was more upset about that. 'To be fair, the jar was already open.'

'Guilty.' Richard said, raising a hand. Father and son shared a mischievous grin. Catherine crossed her hands.

'It's like dealing with a bunch of children.'

'I am a child.' Peter pointed out, still pleased he was getting away with this. Catherine turned to Richard who shrugged.

'You asked me to clean the shelves. Not my fault I was hungry.' He said casually.

'You both are going to help me with the next batch of cupcakes.' She declared, to which Peter nodded and his dad verbally agreed. Out of the corner of his eyes, Peter saw a flutter of wings in the window behind his parents. He schooled his features to appear indifferent, but something showed. 'Peter, are you all right?'

'Yeah, fine!' He said, willing himself to make his parents avoid seeing a phoenix. He had a very faint idea of why it was there, but he brushed that thought aside as he clapped his hands. 'Very nice, very lovely, isn't it?'

'What is, Peter?' Richard asked curiously. Peter stepped between them and the window on the other end.

'Curtains!' He said with a flourish, prancing about the room to distract his parents. 'They're greaaATT!' He stopped before the side of the stairs, looking at his parents who both looked aghast, and beamed.

'Peter, are you—are you sure you're not on a sugar rush?' His mother asked perplexed.

Peter's eyes caught the phoenix on the other side, flapping its wings like an idiot. 'Shoo—' He started, waving his arms. 'Shoo, shoo sugar rush!' His eyebrows twitched. He was making an arse of himself, but his parents will. Not. Know. About. This.

'Group hug?' He said quickly, convinced that his parents are going to lock him up in St. Mungo's. His parents looked at each other, before tentatively embracing him.

With both their backs turned, Peter mouthed silently and furtively to the blasted fowl, ' _Bugger off to my bedroom, you bloody pheasant_.' The phoenix quickly vanished upward. Relieved, Peter yawned. 'Mum, Dad, I'm going back to bed.' He said a little loudly.

'As you should.' His father replied, making secret eye messages to his mother. Peter was being ushered to his bedroom door. Once the door to his parent's bedroom closed, and his mother out of reach, his father sighed. 'It's amazing that you're hiding something.' Peter scrambled to deny, but his father chuckled. 'Go on Peter. I'm not your mother. You might make her concerned, but I've done things like this in the past.' He patted Peter's back. 'Before you do something even more embarrassing to yourself, I suggest you get some sleep first.' The door shut, and he was alone in the room once again.

THUD!

Peter scowled. 'I've had it with you, you sorry excuse for a bird.' He snarled, marching towards the windows. He threw aside the curtains, yanked open the pane, and grabbed out for the phoenix. 'What is your deal with—AAHH!'

There was a flash of flame, and Peter was no more at Parker Lot.

'Oof!' Peter smacked into the ground, dirt in his mouth. He scrambled to his feet, frantically looking around.

'I see you've met Fawkes.' A voice said. Dumbledore was behind him, looking for once stealthy in his choice of wear.

Peter dusted himself off. 'Hard not to, when it almost spread its feathers all over my parent's line of view.' He bit out. 'What made you drag me out to this—' He spread his arms. 'moor out in the middle of nowhere?'

'I thought you would recognise it.' Dumbledore said, wryness coating his tone. 'Didn't you once frequent this place, Peter?'

'What do you mean—' Peter was cut off when he squinted in the distance and felt the world pressing against him. There was a graveyard around him.

'No, no, no, no, no.' He muttered. 'Not this godforsaken place!' He sank to the ground. 'Not Little Hangleton!'

'Peter, you need to get over your fear. It is only holding you up.'

'Shut the f—!' Peter stopped himself harshly. 'What could you possibly know about me? That I was a Death Eater, I betrayed my friends, I brought back Voldemort and everything I ever did led up to this place? _Don't you pretend for one moment old man, that you could empathise with that_!' He roared. 'I can't go on, I just _can't_.'

'But you already did.' Dumbledore looked a little pleased. 'You see, the fact that you just ignored everything to chew my words back at me proved that.' He smiled. 'Your strength is your anger. Most would say that is the way of youth, but it is the bitterness of an old man I see in you.'

It dawned on Peter that the place wasn't really what haunted him. What haunted him was what he could do if he was back here. He did not want to do anything that tied into serving Voldemort. _Helping_ him. Even if it is a missed opportunity to rid the world of the monster. 'Thanks, Dumbledore.' He said calmly, energy replaced by tiredness. 'I needed to feel good about myself.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Here we are then.' He said, looking around the depressing unlit hill like it was a tourist hotspot. Peter had to strain his eyes to see Dumbledore against the dark and troubling night. 'Do you remember what I've told you, Peter?'

'Yes.' He gulped, thinking of only surviving this incident and nothing beyond that. 'Are you sure this is the place, professor?'

'I would not have been here if I wasn't.' The aged wizard replied succinctly. 'But if we are to find the horcrux, we must broaden our vision. As it so happens, Tom Riddle has used this place as a memory of a time before his rise to power, a prelude to his terrible acts. He has done unspeakable things here, pushing the boundaries of magic while destroying himself.' He walked up to the top of the hill and Peter followed, seeing a vast stretch of estate with an ill kept manor in its midst. This must have been where Voldemort killed his own father.

'Oh, he didn't just stop there you see.' Dumbledore remarked suddenly, as if he read Peter's mind. 'For good measure, Tom also killed his paternal grandparents, wishing to end the bloodline even if there was a slim chance of it continuing.' He caught Peter's curious gaze. 'If this night ends well, I shall tell you the tale of Voldemort's rise.' Peter shared a grim look with the headmaster.

'Lum—' Peter went to say, but Dumbledore gave him a cautionary look.

'I'd think it would be for the best if we not draw attention to ourselves.' He glanced around. 'Once we are inside however, it is wise to do so.'

'Could we pass through whatever protections there are?' Peter asked hesitantly, not wanting to encumber on Dumbledore's well thought out plans.

'It will be difficult. But knowing the crude and dark wizard he is, Tom ends up playing his cards far too soon.' They were now at the door knocker, and Peter's stomach turned looking at what was pinned to it. A dead, wrinkled snake with its tail wound up was staring at them with blank eyes. Peter turned to Dumbledore, who was scrutinising it as he would a person. He murmured something but the door would not budge.

'Well,' Dumbledore said, rolling his wrists. 'This is going to be sudden. Stand back please.' Peter obeyed and Dumbledore launched a blue white spell no sooner than he had said so, and the door blasted open. Only the few splinters of wood remaining were any indication of a door once there.

'How—what?' Peter stammered, looking perplexedly at Dumbledore. 'But I thought—'

'Yes Peter?'

'I thought you would do something more discrete, like an unlocking charm or tearing the wards down! Was blasting the door all you had to do?'

'You sound disappointed in me, Peter.' Dumbledore said, but his eyes were amused. 'I only had to override the protections against wizards whom Tom deemed sub-par. An overpowered spell does wonders in the long run. And to answer your doubts, I'm afraid that tearing a ward down is only possible with the most dedicated witches and wizards in the field; curse breakers who would have far more success than an occasional dabbler, and even then, I've only broken down the barrier. The real test is inside.'

'Lumos.' Dumbledore said and Peter did the same. 'Stay with me, my boy.' The house was damp and smelled mostly like rotten wood. Peter stuck close to Dumbledore, not wanting to get trapped into anything Voldemort created. Their footsteps creaked the wooden floor, and Peter was reminded of how similar it looked to the abandoned classroom in Hogwarts. And now his thoughts were at Hogwarts, where the food was delicious, the fireplace was roaring and his friends would all be waiting for him. No Voldemort, no Death Eaters and he could just step into—

'Peter!' A strong voice said, pulling him backwards. An instant later, the mouldy plank on the floor exploded. Shaken suddenly out of it, Peter scratched his head in embarrassment at being that careless but thankful that he hadn't ended up strewn as blood and bones. Dumbledore's eyes were icy and harsh. 'Please don't do that again.' He waved his wand and a railing appeared. 'I do not want to see you harmed in any way.'

They took their steps carefully. Dumbledore puzzled over their route, his eyes trailing the destitute surrounding. Peter trained his eyes in the same direction. There seemed to be dusty lines inked from where they stood, tendril like along the floor.

'Runes.' Dumbledore murmured, bringing his wand along the line of sight. 'I didn't know that Tom preferred runic symbols over spells.' He turned towards Peter. 'Unless we decipher what they mean, it's near impossible to get any further.'

'But, couldn't you try to overpower it?' Peter asked. 'Like last time?'

Dumbledore gave a hollow chuckle. 'If it works, I would. As it is, Voldemort has used Parselmagic to enchant its protection.' He turned back towards the pattern. 'I trust you know how they work?'

Peter shuddered. Hearing that unearthly, serpentine sound was enough to give him nightmares several times over. He shrugged. 'But it still could be broken, right?'

'Unfortunately, no.' Dumbledore said. 'I sense the horcrux inside, and if I attempt anything else, it will be buried, or trigger a defensive charm, neither of which are options.'

Peter felt coldness drop at the pit of his stomach. They couldn't get the horcrux, and if they tried to, it would do nothing but harm them. He thought long and hard, ignoring the sense of immense dread. A whisper in his ears, a twitching in his fingers. There was something very wrong with this place, as if Voldemort had only served to enhance its malevolence. Something hissed in his mind. Sinister. Powerful.

Peter found out that he had closed his eyes it when they sprang wide open. Dumbledore was guessing certain Parseltongue phrases by speaking them out. God, could Riddle get any more snake-like?

 _Snake_. Peter blinked with a sudden jolt. _That's it!_ 'Professor!' He called Dumbledore. 'I think I found something!' Dumbledore turned to him with a questioning look.

'What is it?'

'Nagini!'

'Pardon?'

Peter realised that he'd been thinking of the snake Voldemort had. 'The patterns—their outline looks like a snake.'

Dumbledore smiled. 'And what runes do you think those may be?'

Peter felt like he was back in Ancient Runes class. He never was good at them. 'Uh, something with an S?'

'A good guess if any.' Dumbledore nodded sagely. 'Can you think of anything else as such?'

Peter hemmed. 'Snakes—they're poisonous? The rune makers hated them, so they assigned them something bad, like—' He struggled to put thought to words, 'disease?'

'Not quite.' Dumbledore corrected. 'You see, the runes formed bases as it were, and according to the carver, it represented something.' He pointed to the lines. 'The base here is Kaunan—in other words, pain and suffering. An integral part of being mortal. Voldemort desires his enemies to be beneath him, in power and in life.' He moved his hand to the left. 'This rune splits into two and joins again—a representation of Othalan, inheritance. Something Voldemort yearned for and still does.'

'So how do we get it right?' Peter said.

'There seems to be something in here.' Dumbledore said, pointing to the centre of the runes. 'But Peter,' his eyes turned serious. 'Should anything happen to me, I need you to take this thimble.'

'A Portkey?' Peter mumbled.

'Yes, Peter,' He said, 'A Portkey. Now, as it is getting past our allotted time for hunting, I shall—using your invaluable deductions of course, find the solution.'

Peter stood there for a long time. He was not sure if minutes or hours had passed, but Dumbledore had somehow broken past. The man was, above all, the genius that everyone knew he always was. A small tin box, chipped and in faded colours popped out of nowhere onto the centre of the pentagram.

'Desire was the key,' Dumbledore muttered as if in awe. 'I sense we are at the most crucial junction of unearthing the horcrux. Tom has played it rather safely so far; the most dangerous moment is yet to come.'

Still hesitant, Peter joined Dumbledore, where they crouched over the tin box. It was unremarkable, save for its purple hue and trimmed edges, in an old fashion.

There was something calling out to him. No whispers now, a fully conscious voice, suggestive but not malevolent. Dumbledore opened the box.

There was a ring. Bulky and ugly, it looked like an ancient heirloom. Peter thought back to Voldemort. Did he get this from his family? How did he know? And the most chilling part—what would it do?

Dumbledore's eyes remain fixated on the scratch marks on the lumpy stone on it. His eyes were in a daze, his beard trembling. He brought the box up to his eyes, before putting it back on the ground. His bony finger reached to touch it, and it almost did.

It seemed like it was foreboding, but Peter couldn't help but distract his professor. 'How do we destroy it?'

'Destroy?' Dumbledore's outstretched finger stopped while he repeated, as if the notion was entirely ridiculous. 'Peter, do you realise what it is?'

'A horcrux?' Peter said, but even he felt at odds with himself. If Dumbledore didn't want to destroy it, why would Peter want to? 'Professor, should we damage the ring?'

'Oh no, my boy.' Dumbledore whispered. 'The power in this stone, the things it can do-' He took a deep breath. 'I only need to touch it.'

Peter wanted Dumbledore to touch it. In fact, perhaps the stone would help him as well. He could have all the funds for the war, the resources he needed. Maybe the stone was an Elixir, and Dumbledore knew what had to be done. Yes, that's it. There was no horcrux.

He heard Dumbledore say one word, 'Arianna.' And he felt quite satisfied. That was it, wasn't it? The secret to happiness?

There was a split second, an instance of insight. A horrible premonition overtook him, and he snatched the box away from the aged wizard. Dumbledore's eyes refocussed, but his gaze was still on the box.

'Peter, I need that ring.'

'Professor, we should destroy it, it's doing something. Voldemort-'

'It is not Voldemort's. Something far more ancient and certainly more powerful.'

There were a lot of things Peter considered dumb. On this occasion, refusing Albus Dumbledore was certainly one of them.

'No.'

Peter threw the ring down, and it bounced awkwardly before rolling to a stop. Smoke gathered around it. A chilling scream, muffled and hoarse, rang through the night. Dumbledore stood before it, his face in abject horror, drawn as the smoke coalesced into a face, and then a person. A woman with her hair in a bun, and blue eyes stared at Dumbledore.

'Mother?' The aged man whispered.

The apparition looked livid. 'You have no right to call me that, _Albus_.' She hissed. 'You are no son of mine, not certainly since you let me die.'

'I'm sorry.' Dumbledore said, past any grief by this point. 'I truly am.'

'Are you, _boy_?' She snarled. 'You, with your awards and discoveries and grades,' she barked in laughter. 'You never fed the family! If you had watched over that brat, my husband wouldn't have rotted away!' The smoke twisted into the shallow imitation of another woman. This one's hair was strewn, her eyes weary and her dress torn.

'Hello, brother.' She said devoid of emotion. 'You left me to die.' She sighed. 'I thought he was your best friend.' She fixed her piercing gaze on Dumbledore. 'Do best friends try to kill me?'

'No Arianna,' He said, ' _Never_.'

There was a pop and now a third apparition. The vapour became a boy with long wavy hair smirking at Dumbledore. 'Hello, Albus. Come to gloat?'

'We've parted ways.' Albus said. 'I'm not the same man I was before.' His wand raised high.

The ring wobbled unsteadily. Now the smoke was drifting towards him. Orange light and a crackling sound thundered. Dumbledore had—was that _Incendio_? Something like a phoenix swallowed the ring whole, before an explosion rocked the ground.

Peter hit the grass before Dumbledore could command him to. His eardrums might have burst, but his eyes remain closed. There was a great cloud of dust and smoke where he could see the faint outline of Dumbledore. A section of the walls was blown away, and there still was a lingering odour of decay. He scrambled to grab his hands, when the floorboards erupted.

A grey, slimy hand grabbed his legs. Peter screamed, casting a Flipendo on the gruesome thing. It flopped off, giving Peter a split second to run towards the professor. The man himself blasted two other creatures before roughly grabbing Peter's arms. There was a flash of blue, and then darkness.

Peter opened his eyes to see the night sky of Hogsmeade. It was very calm—in fact, he had never seen the place like this before. In this life, he hadn't yet seen it though in formal settings. Dumbledore was kneeling beside him, and worry crept in Peter. 'Sir, are you alright?' He shook his shoulders, and Dumbledore nodded in a daze. 'Come on professor, we need to get to Hogwarts.'

'I'm alright, Peter.' Dumbledore said, timbre colouring his voice. 'You've done a commendable job in this ordeal.' He rubbed his shoulders, now standing tall. His gait was unsteady, and Peter held him till he gently refused. 'I am very glad you held onto the Portkey, and that spell was very powerful.'

'What spell sir?' Peter asked.

'That Flipendo you cast.' Dumbledore said, to his surprise. 'Your magic is accelerating, which is slightly worrying but otherwise splendid.' There was a tinge of pride behind the moon tinted spectacles of his. 'That was as dark as I've ever gone before.' He turned to Peter. 'Have you ever heard of Fiendfyre?'

'Have I ever not?' Peter muttered darkly.

'Fair point.' Dumbledore cracked the joints of his arms, before flexing them. 'I think I'm severely exhausted, and I think you are too.' A flash of flames spread before them in a crackle, and Fawkes popped out of thin air. 'You need to get home, Peter. Should I wish to meet you urgently, Fawkes is keyed to your house from now on. He will be of immense help.'

The bird in question trilled. 'Yes, I smell of rot. Thank you for observing, Fawkes.' Dumbledore said gently to the bird, which pecked his beard. 'Now go help Peter.'

If birds could complain, that phoenix certainly was as it warbled and grunted. Peter held the bird's sharp talons. 'Professor, you told me before we left that you'd tell me more about Voldemort should we come back.'

Dumbledore crooked his lips upwards. 'Are you in any condition to listen?'

Peter thought about it for a moment and then slowly moved his head from side to side. 'No, and I don't think you're in any condition to tell it too.' His grin was mirrored.

'Ah!' Dumbledore said, stroking his beard. 'Goodnight, Peter.'

'Goodnight, Albus.'

The surprised look was the last thing Peter saw before he was swept away. He might have landed on his bed, but his bones were so far ragged that he slept as soon as he hit the pillows.

Dumbledore meanwhile, stood in the filtered Hogsmeade light. His arm stretched to examine his wand. It was darkened at the tip, and part of it looked beaten. He stowed in back in his pocket, merrily whistling a tune ages lost in Quidditch, as he walked back to the castle.

…

'Peter, are you even looking at the Sorting going on?' Remus nudged him, but Peter didn't pay mind. The line of tiny students was still trailing, and they were still the nervous batch everyone expected them to be.

'I wouldn't want to watch them. Itty bitty little things they are.' James supported Peter's decision, eagerly waiting for the food.

'Same.' Sirius echoed, but his eyes were focussed on a boy with his hair and eyes.

'Those "itty bitty little things" are just a year younger than us, Uncle James.' Remus joked. 'And why wouldn't you watch, Sirius? It's your own brother.'

'Having siblings is awful. You guys wouldn't understand.' Sirius growled. Lily looked like she would refute, but then didn't say anything. Sirius smirked as if his point was made in the argument.

'I did make a couple of little friends, Remus.' Peter replied. 'Just waiting to see if they're in our house.' In truth, Peter had been out on the lookout for future Death Eaters. The ones who were already initiated, he couldn't save. But the ones joining Hogwarts, he could try. He owed it to them. Ever since the Horcrux hunt, he had felt more strongly about Voldemort than ever, as it struck a personal nerve. He knew how torturous the experience must have been for Dumbledore, and he didn't want to ask. Rita Skeeter's biography while being a caustic bile of information was mostly true.

He locked eyes with the straw blonde boy. He looked very nervous, and his buck teeth quivered. Peter knew Barty Crouch Jr. back in his world and his muddied-up family. It was a real treat to talk to him on the express.

 _'_ _So, reading books in your compartment?' Peter remarked, his insides sweating profusely. He had no idea how the meeting would turn out. 'And they say I'm a swot.'_

 _'_ _Who're you?' The small boy reading said, his book now shut. 'Wha—what do you want?'_

 _'_ _Just on the lookout for my juniors.' Peter said with a friendly smile. 'Peter Pettigrew.' He reached a hand out to shake. 'And you?'_

 _'_ _Barty Crouch.' He said warily. 'Junior.'_

 _'_ _So,' Peter drew out his query, 'What's the book you're reading?'_

 _'_ _Why're you here?' Barty asked suddenly. 'Trying to gain favours?' He said bitterly._

 _'_ _No?' Peter said confused. 'Like I said, looking out for my juniors. No strings attached.'_

 _'_ _There always is.' Barty said, eyes narrowing at him. 'What, you want my dad on Floo connection or something?'_

 _'_ _Your dad?' Peter asked._

 _'_ _You're living under a rock.' Barty said in disbelief. 'He's the Minister of Magic! Barty Crouch, that's my name too.'_

 _'_ _So?' Peter countered._

 _'_ _What do you mean "so"?' Barty asked incredulously._

 _'_ _What does your dad being the Minister of Magic have to do with you?' Peter said sharply. 'I came to see_ _ **you**_ _, not your_ _ **dad**_ _. If you have a problem with that—' He noticed Crouch looked threatened, then felt his wand tremor. He reined back his emotions. 'Have a good day.' He slammed the compartment door, not bothering to see a stunned Crouch ignore his fallen book and stare at the space that had the stranger._

Peter turned away, refusing to show any emotion. He was half tempted to leave the pompous brat to his fate, or worse, die before he managed to. But something in him prompted him to turn back again. And he saw another kid, one he didn't expect to see.

'Lockhart?'

'What?' James said distracted, looking longingly at his empty plate for the food that wasn't there.

'Uh,' Peter stammered, 'I mean, _look there_! The first kid is on his way.' Thankfully, it seemed luck saw through Peter's bluff and one by one and he tried to school his features into something resembling nonchalance. This had to be a weird year to be in.

Not actually, Peter smiled, when every year he was in was going to be like that.

Curiously, the Hat sat for a while longer on Crouch and Lockhart. It might have been a lack of brains about Lockhart that got him into—Ravenclaw? What? He was the only person in the hall shocked with this decision, because he knew what an idiot that man had been! Was he really in Ravenclaw before this time and Peter simply hadn't noticed? There were too many questions.

Regulus had gone into Slytherin, followed by a pale and twitchy Crouch. Ah, Peter just knew those two are going to be rubbing shoulders all seven years. He didn't even pay attention to the rest of the Sorting, or James looking worriedly at him.

'Peter, are you all right?' Remus asked. Food had plopped into existence and Peter still stared at the goblets.

Peter mumbled something before saying, 'I'm alright Remus.' He grinned a little cheekily. 'At least I'm feeling better than poor Sirius. Some piss in his pumpkin juice, I reckon.' Sirius nearly burned a hole into Peter's eyes with that glare.

James gagged on his drink. 'Peter, you utter arse!' He sputtered before thumping his chest. 'And the juice was great for once too!'

Sirius kept repeating, 'Hate him.' with varying tones of modulation, while stabbing his pie on a fork's end.

Remus raised his eyebrows. 'Well, that clears our doubts as to whether Sirius likes apple pie.' He cleared his throat. 'I think you could be a bit more vocal 'bout that because the Slytherin table's all the way over there.' He pointed to one of the hall walls where Slytherins sat opposing Hufflepuffs on the other end.

'This is nothing to laugh about.' Sirius started angrily, then quietened to a hiss when heads turned. 'D'you know what everyone else would say when one Black is in Slytherin and the other's in Gryffindor? They'd call me rotten, a bad egg and all sorts of nonsense! My stupid family takes that seriously! And they would—I can't,' and he put his hands over his face.

The mood changed over the table. James, Remus and Peter shared a look of helplessness. The sooner he leaves his family, Peter realised sadly, the better his life would be.

James coughed. 'So, dinner's done and drama's begun. What about our little project?'

Remus narrowed his eyes. 'Don't tell me you've—'

'I have.' James grinned cockily. 'I think I've told you this before—my parents would let me get away with murder if I could do it.' He flashed the binder of an old leatherback, faded yellow letters revealing; "Animagi—The Mystery of the Animal Side". He quickly pushed it down out of view. 'What about you, Sirius?'

Sirius seemed to put his misery behind him. 'You mean the secret ingredients?'

'What secret ingredients?' Peter asked sharply, not being privy to the information. Remus looked equally curious.

'Yes, the secret ingredients! Where are they?' James asked.

'Do you mean the secret ingredients or _THE_ secret ingredients?' Sirius asked back.

Remus and Peter turned to James for clarity, but he shrugged. 'I have no idea what he means by that.' He turned to Sirius. 'They're two of them now?'

'Two more or two less?'

'I don't know! Merlin, stop speaking in riddles!'

'Okay, okay,' Sirius laughed, putting his hands up. 'Yes, I do have the "project" ingredients.' He winked. 'And some other "project" ingredients.'

'It's like I'm surrounded by squibs,' James grumbled, 'but I'm a squib myself.'

'Let's not start pranks until after a month?' Remus asked for a compromise.

Peter sighed. 'Looking at these two, I don't think they could hold themselves to any promises.'

'Spoken like a true Marau—that hurt, James!' Sirius groused, rubbing his shoulders while James shushed him. They turned to see Dumbledore's address, which among other things, hid the fact that the (mostly) hidden group from last year stayed hidden this year too.

 **Sorry not sorry? Stay tuned for more!**

 **~K2SC**


End file.
